The three student epigraphs that begin Chapter 2 of our Difficulty text acknowledge that poetry “is a particularly difficult genre for many students to read” (Salvatori & Donahue, p. 15). Like those students, I’ve never considered myself to be a capable reader of poetry. I, too, have been taught few tools for reading poetry and have had little poetry reading practice. This is an astounding revelation for someone who has both undergraduate and graduate degrees in English. My literature studies focused almost exclusively on short stories, novels, and plays. Why is that?

Thinking back to my undergraduate days, I see that my very small amount of poetry study didn’t resemble the reading activities Salvatori and Donahue describe. My instructors lectured about the poems we read and the poets who wrote them. I remember a particularly dismal course in which we studied Paradise Lost and all I can recall is being in pain. The instructor allowed for some discussion, usually dominated by only a few students. I felt there was something wrong with me and zoned out during these discussions. It never occurred to me that Milton is difficult. It didn’t seem to be that way for my instructor or for my few classmates who spoke up.

I don’t remember being taught strategies to approach the difficulty in poetry. I was taught no system of notation like the one Salvatori and Donahue describe on page 19-20. Yes, I was taught to identify similes and metaphors and can do so. However, I wasn’t taught how to use those those similes and metaphors, once identified, to help me tackle the difficulties in the poems.

Here’s the difficulty in my own story; I write poetry. And I work hard at writing it, sometimes spending weeks revising a short poem. Now, why would someone who doesn’t consider herself to be a good reader of poetry (and who has generally avoided reading poetry) write poetry, poetry she finds difficult to write?

To begin, I’ve had far more writing poetry instruction than reading poetry instruction. I took a creative writing class in college in which I produced a collection of poems. My instructor gave me many good ideas for poetic form and highlighted words, phrases, and lines of my poems for me to consider more deeply. Her astute observations and excellent suggestions helped me push to find just the right word or eliminate the unnecessary. She taught me that writing good poems is difficult and that’s my expectation to this day.

I’ve also gotten very positive feedback about the poems I write. In that course, I shared my poems with my classmates and remember enjoying their praise. I’ve had a few poems published — something that makes me proud. I wrote an elegy and read it at a funeral and many people told me how much it meant to them and how beautiful it was. I’ve also written song lyrics (and music) for several area schools now using them, including the university where I teach.

I’ve had instruction and reinforcement for writing poetry but little for reading poetry. I’ve believed that reading poetry wasn’t my thing and that difficult poems are beyond me – a defect in my abilities. I see now that I’ve been lacking the tools, encouragement, and opportunity I needed to be a good reader of poetry. Now, I wonder if I might actually enjoy reading poetry and be good at it. — Laura Hills