If Art Is a Reflection of the Soul... by Samantha

If Art Is a Reflection of the Soul... by Samantha - June 2019 Scholarship Essay

There is a certain kind of warmth that accompanies reading and finishing a good book. A feeling that you have traveled with someone and been a part of their story until the very end, no matter what that end is. The first time I truly experienced the latter was toward the end of my sophomore year. My English 10 Honors class had finally finished Khaled Hosseini’s The Kite Runner, and while everyone felt a relief of the weight of assignments and essays, I could not help but feel that I had just discovered something, but not yet understood it. It was because of that that I wanted more. I wanted to figure out why I connected so deeply with a Sunni Muslim boy as a white, Christian woman.

Throughout my junior year, my ears were not deaf to the complaints and grips against my AP Language and Composition teacher regarding our summer assignments and the heavy course load presented on the daily, and I’m sure neither was she. Inside of myself I secretly harbored thanks for the work I had to do, because each and every single day I felt I was getting closer to understanding why I felt the way I did about that one single book.

“‘Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone,’” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages you’ve had.’” In reading that simple sentence at the beginning of F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, I understood. It was not because of the way that it was written, but rather how the simple concept was communicated to me. No longer did I perceive pieces of literature as stories all independent of one another, I understood them as an unspoken cohesive work. Like The Kite Runner, The Great Gatsby provided social commentary on the class struggle of humans and the prideful nature of man. In being taught a diverse array of works it became known to me that the iconic themes of redemption and greed and ego and love and all others transcend any form of socioeconomic, political, ethnic, or religious “barrier” that is perceived.

Unknowingly, Mrs. Phinney made it clear to me that our empathy and ability to connect with others is not only rooted in communication and language, but also our gradual understanding that there is no difference between who you are as a reader and the characters in the story you read. Once I finally understood that this was my way to comprehend that which is unfamiliar to me in regard to humanity, I knew that I wanted to study English for the rest of my life. Whether I was reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn or Invisible Man, both were able to communicate to me struggle for identity and place; themes were not and will never be limited to a time-frame or certain kind of person. I no longer looked at work as a means to punish me or take away the fun of my youth, but rather as a building of my repertoire of resources to bond with people of all interests and backgrounds. If art stands as a reflection of the soul, it would be my job to understand as many souls as I possibly could.