In elementary school and middle school, I succumbed to awkwardness and the inability to express myself healthily with others or alone. When it came to people, I would crack jokes and hide behind a large persona that wasn’t true to itself. I noticed this right before entering high school and knew I needed to change. It wasn’t until my sophomore year of high school that I found an outlet through my creative writing class. This outlet, being poetry or general writing for the matter, was a subject that I knew I was able to do at a high level, yet not an activity I particularly enjoyed. My creative writing teacher, Bryce Deline, opened my eyes to the wondrous world of writing and how it is able to let a person express whatever they may feel onto a blank page. 

A few weeks before this class began, my first girlfriend broke up with me. Being an insecure, outlandish-looking high schooler, I didn’t know how to cope with these newfound feelings. Obviously looking back, it doesn’t seem like a big deal, but back then it was. Luckily for sophomore year Tyler, a valuable tool would reveal itself to him during his first period class on Mondays and Fridays.

I remember the first day walking into the Eller Building of Literature and Arts. It was one of the places I never went to at my school. Immediately after I stepped through the doors, I noticed the somber lights of the hallway and the faded walls. It appeared as if the soul had been sucked out of the building. My class was on the third floor. I went up the dull maroon staircase, breathing in the harsh, icy air. I pressed through the thick metal doors of the stairwell to view a similar looking hallway. I used to believe that a person could get trapped in there, due to the floors all being replicas of each other. I checked my phone for the room number, E211. As my feet hit the stained, corroded tile, I became nervous, “Will there be anyone I know?” “Is the teacher a tough grader?” and other thoughts rapidly sped through my mind. Before I knew it, I approached the classroom. Uneasily, I slowly turned the doorknob and prayed that I might know a single person there. 

Creeping slowly through the doorway, I glanced at the whiteboard:“Come in quietly and sit where you may like. My name is Mr. Deline, welcome to Creative Writing.” I spotted a buddy of mine in the corner, so I placed my backpack down near the desk and took a seat. I patiently waited for the bell to ring. 

Once it rang, a middle-aged man with a large brown beard stood at his desk. He boomed, “As you may have guessed, I am Mr. Deline. I will be teaching you all this semester.” He then led us through a series of icebreaker games and told us about the assignments and projects we would be working on during this class. 

Once the class period was over, I thought “Hey, he seems like a pretty chill guy, this should be quite a fun and intriguing class!” and I say to that, yes it was.  

Mr. Deline’s class wasn’t just any ordinary English class. It presented a fresh and new way to experience writing. Mainly, I learned how to express myself through poetry. At first I believed poetry was this category of writing with set rules and hard to understand concepts. Through my creative writing class I realized that this was not the case. 

I learned that instead of being structured and boring, true poetry flows similar to water. Whenever I get into a good groove within writing poetry, the words just drip down onto the page like rainfall and I travel to a place in my mind where no distraction can break my focus such as a river. Not only is the process of writing poetry similar to water, but the poetry itself can form to whatever situation it may be in. Recently I was talking to a friend about how a poem can change meaning from the writer to the reader. Poetry can be read in numerous ways. It can be any concept a person wants or in some cases an ideal that a person would not want at all, but in the end is a necessary piece of advice a person should hear for their own well-being and self-growth. To me this is true beauty, art that is priceless in any frame. An outlet as beautiful and simple as poetry, I believe, is the perfect form of self expression because anyone can do it, you don’t need much for it, and it can fit to any moment or emotion you would like to express. 

Other people will say that forms of self expression, such as dancing, music, painting, or singing assist in self-expression better than poetry. I believe differently. Poetry is a culmination of all of these put into one. It doesn’t require any extraordinary talent or ability, it is rudimentary and blissfully easy to do. Yet its simplicity does not counteract the complexity that it brings. What I mean by this is that, plain and simple, anyone can express themselves through poetry easily in any way that they may like. Whereas on the contrary, many dancers, musicians, and artists alike struggle to express themselves due to the difficulty of their passions. Poetry is anyone’s game, and the person participating gets to choose how they would like to play. 

If you think about the necessities of life, what is it we really need? Food, water and shelter. Yes, we need these to live, yet we forget about the more soul-nourishing ideals on the day to day. Concepts such as love, happiness and satisfaction come to my mind when I think about what I need in my life, not just to survive, but to live. I may have not learned about survival tactics through a classroom in a worn down school building, but I was educated on a simple, yet highly helpful way to quench my thirst for self expression. Poetry may not seem exciting or extraordinarily complex, but that’s the point. Partaking in poetry is as easy as taking a sip of water. Poetry is similar to this action as well. Refreshing, healthy, and enjoyable. So after a long tiring day, grab a glass of ice cold poetic water, and take a sip.