The first time I read Wuthering Heights I was a senior in high school in AP Lit class. There were about 20 of us crammed in Coach Weeks trailer in the back of the over-crowded school. Having a coach as an AP English teacher would be surprising to some but Coach Weeks was my Varsity Soccer coach. In the four years I played for him I never once doubted his intellect and talent for the game of soccer. I knew he was an English teacher but I never imagined I would have him as my AP English teacher senior year. He made us run sprints until we hurled and do push ups in the mud so when I sat in his cramped trailer and cried as he read WH aloud to us with tears in his eyes I had one of those life changing moments. The moment when you realize what you think you know of the world is very different than how the world is and you stretch beyond yourself to make a new meaning. It was so with me as tears streamed down my face listening to the passion and anguish of Heathcliff and Catherine's love read by a Coach I admired so much. In that moment I learned how connected we are by literature and the vast power of the written word. I knew then I wanted to be a part of that.
So years later I have sat in front of hundreds of students getting choked up reading To Kill a Mockingbird or Of Mice and Men or pretty much anything by Shakespeare (except Julius Ceasar) hoping that one of them would open their heart to the words and find the power for themselves.
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