There are so many stories here. I noticed this as I walked down the princess staircase this morning. The stained glass streaming light onto this glamorous staircase was a small action shot of a knight riding his horse into battle. If that isn’t the epitome of a classic story…..well, no need for cliches. Any story involving a knight must be a good one. I’ve been walking down that staircase for a few weeks and never even saw the knight before. There are so many stories here.
The best ones aren’t even the ones captured in colored glass. They are the ones in sweatshirts and jeans, hands in their pockets, shuffling past Rockwell. They are the ones that are chatting loudly outside of my window. They are the ones down the hall, around the corner, and next to you in class.
These are stories that defy our English formula for literature. They may have a beginning, but there is no end and while there is much rising action, the climax is yet to be written. No one is really sure who the antagonist is here. We can’t figure out if this is man vs. nature, or nature vs. nature, or why we have to be versus anything at all. Sometimes, we don’t even know who the protagonist is but we hope they are a character that someone would like and want to cheer on.
There are so many unknowns and unwrittens to these stories that we tend to hide them. The most we give out is a 300 word summary or back-of-the-book paragraph that is so vague it could be written about anyone.
College is mostly about learning. Most of my homework is reading. I’m reading about creating good ideas, the fall of Rome, how to record an adjusting entry, and the historical background of the book of Judges. I’ve learned a good deal in the last six weeks and will continue to do so. Yet I want to read more than textbooks or fiction. I want to know more than dates or philosophies. I want to begin with the stories that surround me. After all, we are our stories.