Dead Poets Society

by N.H. Kleinbaum

The meek might inherit the earth, but they don’t get into Harvard; know what I mean?”

It’s because we’re food for worms, lads!” Keating shouted. “Because we’re only going to experience a limited number of springs, summers, and falls.

“What will your verse be?” he asked intently.

“‘I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately.’” He skipped through the text. “‘I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life!’”

How do we, like Walt, permit our own true natures to speak? How do we strip ourselves of prejudices, habits, influences? The answer, my dear lads, is that we must constantly endeavor to find a new point of view.”

“If you’re sure about something,” he said as they slowly returned to their seats, “force yourself to think about it another way, even if you know it’s wrong or silly. When you read, don’t consider only what the author thinks, but take time to consider what you think. “You must strive to find your own voice, boys, and the longer you wait to begin, the less likely you are to find it at all.

“I feel like I’ve never been alive,” Charlie said sadly, as he watched Neil go. “For years, I’ve been risking nothing. I have no idea what I am or what I want to do.

“And don’t limit poetry to the word. Poetry can be found in music, a photograph, in the way a meal is prepared—anything with the stuff of revelation in it. It can exist in the most everyday things but it must never, never be ordinary. By all means, write about the sky or a girl’s smile, but when you do, let your poetry conjure up salvation day, doomsday, any day. I don’t care, as long as it enlightens us, thrills us and—if it’s inspired—makes us feel a bit immortal.”

What it demonstrates is how difficult it is for any of us to listen to our own voice or maintain our own beliefs in the presence of others. If any of you think you would have marched differently, then ask yourself why you were clapping. Lads, there is a great need in all of us to be accepted, but you must trust what is unique or different about yourself, even if it is odd or unpopular. As Frost said, “‘Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by,/And that has made all the difference.’”