I'm Major Jackson and this is The Slowdown.

Years ago, I wasn't invited to teach at Baruch College.

My poetry writing class contained as diverse a population as any that I taught until then.

The students were a mix of backgrounds and experiences.

Around the seminar table, I'd like to compare us as a group to world diplomats at the

nearby United Nations.

I loved how encouraging and attentive my students were to each other, especially with

their critical feedback.

And so, one of them, Sarah, never spoke.

Because of the sensitive and personal nature of some topics, that year I did not require

students to read their poems out loud.

I also understood, first hand, that not everyone comes to college with the confidence to speak,

especially first-generation students.

I know that feeling.

My first year at Temple University, I wore my anxiety on my body.

I sat in the margins of my classrooms, hidden away, hoping not to be called upon to identify

a Volta and a Sonnet, or God forbid, to read my own poem.

I felt inadequate and ill-equipped and insecure.

My aim as a poetry workshop leader is to render such students seen.

I wish for them to see and hear themselves over that self-critical inner voice that says

they are unworthy.

I can't be sure if that's what encouraged Sarah, but one day out of nowhere, after six weeks

...