This year’s books didn’t just entertain me or fill up class time, they genuinely shifted how I think about myself, the people around me, and the world as a whole. I didn’t expect that. But somewhere between King Lear, Pride and Prejudice, Exit West, and Beloved, I started seeing things differently.

King Lear hit me hardest when Lear loses everything: his power, his family, his sanity, and only then begins to understand the people around him. I saw pieces of myself in that. Sometimes I get so caught up in being right or being in control that I miss the quiet truths right in front of me. Watching Lear fall apart and slowly open his eyes made me think about how I treat people, especially when I’m under stress. It reminded me how important it is to stay humble and to listen more, especially to those I might overlook.

With Pride and Prejudice, I expected something light and maybe even boring, but I was wrong. Elizabeth’s realization that she misjudged Darcy made me reflect on how often I do the same thing. I’ve definitely made quick judgments about people, only to find out later I was completely off. That book made me want to be more open-minded, to let people show me who they are before I assume anything.

Exit West made the refugee experience feel heartbreakingly personal. The magical doors were surreal, but the fear, confusion, and sense of loss Saeed and Nadia went through felt very real. It made me think about what it would feel like to lose everything familiar and be forced to start over somewhere new. That story gave me a deeper sense of empathy and reminded me how easy it is to take stability for granted.

And then there’s Beloved, the one that stuck with me the most. Morrison doesn’t let you look away from pain, especially the kind that gets passed down through generations. Sethe’s story made me think about the unspoken pain in my own family, the things that shaped us without being talked about. It made me realize that healing isn’t about pretending everything’s okay, it’s about being honest about what happened.

All of these books changed me in quiet but lasting ways. I think I’m a little more thoughtful now, a little more compassionate, and a lot more aware of how messy and complicated people are. These stories didn’t give me simple answers, but they made me ask better questions. And I think that’s the real power of literature: getting us to slow down and really see each other.