Even in the middle of ninth grade in 2008, I had trouble dealing with the English Analysis that was asked of me in English 9 IB. There are so many aspects of those classes of which I dislike, such as their always assuming nature that things mean something they explicitly do not, their obsession with old literature and of course, their massive desire to teach without actually working on writing skills.
Luckily, I am probably not taking English 12 IB in my Senior year. Thus, my sanity and quite probably my humanity will be saved. That said, allow me to share this little poem I wrote in ninth grade in that English 9 IB class as apart of a project.
When I heard the learned English teacher,
When these criticism and analyses were tabled before me
When sentences were split, rearranged and mangled, interpreted,
When I stood, I heard English teacher where she taught with much discussion in the room,
How soon bored I grew and became ill and weary,
Until drifting and dreaming I awoke with a book,
Read with perfect silence and my interpretation.