An Interview With James Applewhite
College taught me many things, little of which it intended. From its textbook atmosphere I drew a vivid picture of who I wasn’t; from my groping rebellion I took an education. Still, there were moments . . . like a poetry class in which I tried to coax images toward meaning and a professor’s back-handed compliment encouraged me more than he knew. It was my first real attempt at poetry — an emotional vision with shifting edges called “Is Love An Illusion?” — that Duke Poet-in-residence James Applewhite held up as a classroom example.