All that Jazz

I was in Jazz Chior in high school and i loved it. Belting out music that made you want to tap your feet and bounce too. Music you could really Sing sing. Sparkly vest and bow tie in shimmering red. White tuxedo shirt. Black dress pants with shinny black stripes down the sides. Oh yeah.

When I was in college I took this uper division english class and during part of the class we listened to Jazz and wrote. Poetry, short stories, really anything that was brought to mind by the Jazz class. I loved and totally adored my english teacher Ms Easley. She was smart and articulate. She wrote poetry, short stories and stuff about history and literature AND she drove a Mustang. In short she was everything I wanted to be one day. The class was awesome but I realize now that I didn't nearly appriciate it.

I didn't like Jazz, or so I said. But honestly I never gave it a chance. I was so focused on not be a stereo typical black person and shying away from anything that catagorized me as that. Which is a whole different story. So I didn't give Jazz a chance. Not just that but I was rude and angry. I wrote about how listening to the Jazz made me want to rip off my ears or other such stupid nonsince crap. My professor loved Jazz and was sharing something she enjoyed with the students and I was a angry, self centered, heartless child who thought the world revolved around me and never thought about who i might be effecting. I wish I could find that teacher that I looked up to so much and appologize to her.