Ain't I a woman.

I've just reached home, after a 3 hour session of a literature class. I never did like literature. "Too much talk" and "Too much English" were the main reasons I cited. Today, however was like a turning point to me. I was made to discuss a poem, entitled Ain't I a woman. In my first reading, my reaction surprises me. I felt that the speaker of the poem (unnecessarily the poet) was very rude in venting out her frustration. The class then proceed to discuss the poems, in terms of forms (free verse), tone (anger), who the speaker was (a female black slave) and in respect to feminism, what were the main points that were brought out. Understanding the poem a little bit more made me appreciate how powerful it was.
On the way home, however, I couldn't thinking as to why I felt that the speaker in that poem was rude. Could it be of the values that I was brought up in? Could it be that I was taught that one should not be angry in public, one should control one's anger? Or could it be, I resent this woman? I felt that it was the latter. Why would I resent the woman? Its has been one and a half hour since the lesson end and I still don't know whereupon the resentment are from. I resent her, for she dares to state her mind. I resent her for not being a slave, but for being wasting her time. A speech is only just as powerful as the actions that comes after it. Otherwise, it was just blowing hot air. Thankfully, it was not. But still, I resent her, perhaps for doing what I could not, for being brave to speak in front of other men and women, of other men and women. How much must one feel and how much must be affected before one can be blessed enough to speak out against injustice. Still I resent her, for doing what I could not, and in that respect, I am thankful for without her doing what she did, or me coming across that poem, I know one less that is possible.