Sincerely, Charli Day

Chapter 7

"The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien," Mr. Lawson announces, patting the book resting on his desk. "I know for a fact all of you were required to read and annotate this book last year."

A couple of sighs echo throughout the classroom as the remembrance of the book settles in. It was definitely not the worst book we've had to read to be honest, but annotating itself was a pain in the ass. Then doing a hundred assignments on the book was just cruel.

Not that being in AP Lit is any better. I would kill to drop this class right about now.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. You young kids hate reading." Mr. Lawson says, rolling his eyes. "Now someone tell me the purpose before I turn eighty."

Mr. Lawson is around his mid sixties, and he's got a dry sense of humor. His receding hairline is almost completely grey, which he credits to his three sons and daughter.

Unless he's roasting some toasty students, the class turns into everyone's favorite nap time. Not that I'm complaining. I only had two cups of coffee this morning; I'll be ready at four.

Liliana, a quiet girl in the back, raises her hand. "To understand the power of storytelling, Mr. Lawson. Whether it is proper to lie when telling what is supposed to be a true story."

Mr. Lawson nods. "Good, but I want to take it further. What else did we learn from Tim O'Brien as he dived into the different, yet similar, lives of these soldiers? What did he represent?"

The room remains quiet as no one wants to answer. I stare down at my notebook, not in the mood for participating today. Mindless doodles fill my pages instead of notes.

"Ms. Day?"

I silently curse him for picking on me as I reluctantly look up to meet his hopeful face. I think about his question for a second before saying, "Understanding."

He raises his eyebrows, drumming his fingers along his desk. "Care to elaborate?"

I sigh, "By writing his stories in the perspective of the other men such as Rat Kiley and Norman Bowker, O'Brien wanted us to understand the characters in a different light. He wanted us to picture ourselves in their shoes, even if he wasn't exactly telling the truth."

Mr. Lawson claps happily, beaming. "Exactly. Perfectly said, Charli."

I can feel all the eyes on me, making it hard to fight against the urge to sink lower into my chair.

"Understanding is a powerful thing, kids. The capability to understand others on an emotion basis surpasses the ability to understand someone only idealistically. Of course, it would be preferred to be able to do both, but creating emotional bonds with another will make everything so much easier to perceive."

He leans back against his desk, pondering his own thought before continuing.

"O'Brien didn't know some of these men in person. Someone like Bowker simply just sent him a letter asking him to write a story about his life based off of one or two pages of context he provided-"

"Must of been rough." Someone calls out, interrupting him.

Mr. Lawson doesn't seem swayed by the interruption though. Instead he just nods and continues.

"Exactly. And that is why, for this semester's project, I'm going to be assigning you partners outside of this period. I want you all to really get to know someone you probably do not know at the moment."

A collective protest goes around the room, and I join in. My mind begins to reel as I try to think of anyone else I know who's taking AP Lit. Someone I know who's dumb enough like me to take this class.