My Song of Myself

A few weeks ago, I introduced my 11th-grade English students to Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself,” one of my favorite poems. In the first line of his poem, Whitman declares, “I celebrate myself, and sing myself…” When I first read that, it sounded a bit self-centered, a bit arrogant. Once I read further, I realized that Whitman was an individualist, but he was not a narcissist. In the poem, he invites all of his readers to celebrate their identities. Later in that same section, he adds, “I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,/ Hoping to cease not till death.”

Because this is a new beginning for me, these lines especially resonate with me. I, too, am beginning a quest, and I, too, want this to be a lifelong mission. This is a reason for me to celebrate. My writer’s voice has been silent for too long: “I, now at fifty-six years old in relatively good health, begin, / Hoping to cease not till death.”

Towards the end of the poem, Whitman proclaims, “I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.” This blog is “my barbaric yawp.” I admit my original purpose in creating a blog was purely selfish–I wanted motivation to write. However, if any of you readers out there come across my words, I invite you to join my quest for meaning and happiness in this crazy world. To quote Whitman, “There is that in me—I do not know what it is—but I know it is in me…/Do you see O my brothers and sisters? / It is not chaos or death—it is form, union, plan—it is eternal life—it is Happiness.”