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Collegian The

Volume 102 | Issue 08

‘The Heart of Our Coutry’ pg. 3

“@aswwucollegian sad waste of money and paper #godigital” -Some person via Instagram

November 16, 2017

Wwu’s lack of A recycling program

Last Things First college place, wa | walla walla university

| November 2017 Issue 8

It’s All In the Delivery By Meghann Heinrich It’s almost Thanksgiving, which means time spent with those you love, and I am told (via Pride and Prejudice) that poetry is the food of love. Therefore, I am going to call this a Thanksgiving-themed story because it’s about poetry. If you have a problem with that, say it to my face. I could take you, and it wouldn’t even be a struggle. Sidenote: my friend Daniel told me that guys tend to subconsciously size up whether or not they could take someone in a bout of fisticuffs by how they move. His direct quote was, “You know, like you watch someone move or like how they dance.” I choose to think of this statement as: if you throw a boogie cupid shuffle you can also throw down in a scuffle. And that rhymed. I throw down a mean cupid shuffle, so just keep your trap shut about the whole Thanksgiving thing.

Hey Thanks! “Thank you Thanksgiving break, for giving me just enough time to get lulled into a false sense of security before finals.” “Thank you Walla Walla weather for showing us who the Californians are.” “Thank you Californians for the daily update on how cold it is.”

“

hank you Professor Wenceslao for efficiently wearing Heelys. (And for scooting around in them at Costco with 4 of your 6.5 children)”-

In high school, I had the opportunity to enter a national poetry competition for extra credit in my English class. Never one to turn down a captive audience and a few extra points, I signed up without hesitation. In preparation for this competition, each contestant was to prepare two poems from the Poetry Out Loud website to recite on the competition day. The first place winner from our county round could then move on to the next region, and so on, until the final competition in Washington D.C., where I can only assume the winner would receive $1 million in cash and a ride on Air Force One. Not to brag, but it was basically the “Akeelah and the Bee” of poetry. I selected my first poem with no time to waste. It was “The Arrow and the Song” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Short, sweet and touching with an easy rhyme to follow. In short,

I could pull it off. The second selection did not come as naturally. I was perusing the list for something short that I could manage without too much difficulty when I happened upon “Not Waving but Drowning” by Stevie Smith. As the title suggests, the poem is kind of a bummer, but it was only 12 lines long, so I was sold. Long story short, the competition came, and I don’t mind saying: I slayed. At least, I started to. Wadsworth and I had a mutual agreement: he’d write heartwarming verse, and I would perform it. This poem ends with, “Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.” Almost too sweet, right? I remember the audience all smiling at me when I finished that first poem, eyes shining, and Mike (my English teacher) beaming with pride

and relief that I hadn’t embarrassed him in front of the high profile guest judges. I even threw a cheeky wink at the judges table, which I am sure they ate right up. Then came round two. I had sized up the competition, and I knew I would be at the top, not a doubt in my mind. I swaggered to center stage and confidently announced my next selection, “I’ll be reciting ‘Not Waving but Drowning’ by Stevie Smith.” Cue immediate discomfort from everyone in the room. I won’t take you through the next few moments, as I’m sure you can imagine the confusion and alarm felt in the audience as I delivered every line of that chillingly somber piece with a smile plastered on my face. In a singsong cadence I happily wooed them all with, “Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought,

And not waving but drowning.” When I finished the second poem no one was looking at me, which I thought was odd since I had obviously just blown their socks off. Then I realized, they must be looking for their socks on the floor. Mike—no longer looked proud—looked a little embarrassed. Worst of all, the judges did not take to my second wink nearly as well as the first. I left feeling jipped out of the attention I deserved for such moving performances. Shockingly, I didn’t win $1 million or a ride on Air Force One. I have since reread Stevie Smith’s poem—you know, the one about the waving and the drowning. They say hindsight is twenty-twenty, and I get it now. As with many conversations and presentations I’ve had, I nailed the content, but the delivery left something to be desired.

Verbatim “The more you type on Google, the lower your grade. It’s not me, it’s nature.” – Professor Fred Liebrand. “I only eat what I kill.” – Professor Monty Buell. “Fidget spinners are really good.” – Professor Cynthia Westerbeck. “I hate to burst your urinary bubble.” – Professor Jim Nestler “I don’t know why, but these balls are sticky. You can wash them off if you’d like.” – Professor Larry Aamodt while preparing for a physics lab. “If you want a re-branding exercise take the pagan ionic column out of the Walla Walla University logo.” – Professor Pablo Wenceslao Email your faculty verbatim or thank yous to meghann.heinrich@wallawalla.edu to be featured!