Literature was my least favorite subject growing up. It felt like the teachers (and later, professors) had some elevated sense of self that required them to be dismissive of any analysis that was different than their own. While discussing the tired and antiquated Scarlet Letter , the woman would cock her head when I spoke, letting me know she “didn't follow” and “not quite sure I understand.” Weird flex, but okay. The low caliber of English literature teachers le me to pursue other related cour…

We'd totally read these

Who's sending nudes?