my teachers

It's really hard to believe, but we are in the last few weeks of our winter quarter.  I've so enjoyed it.

Gone is much of the anxiety I felt my first quarter back, when I was wondering if I could even do this.  Now I know not only that I can do this, but that I'm right where I need to be.  I love the program I'm in and am enjoying getting to know my profs, who are warm and very supportive.

There's Lee, whose nonfiction class I look forward to every week.  Number one, she's fluent in sarcasm, which is always a plus with me.  Two, she's so helpful, full of ways to trick yourself into actually writing -- the stuff that only comes with experience as a writer.  She lets us in on all those things.  Third, she refuses to structure us, much as students seemingly beg her to.  "How long does this need to be?" someone inevitably asks.  "Long enough to do whot it needs to," she replies.  "Should I use this form in my essay?"  "I don't know.  Try it.  It may work, it may not.  You just have to experiment and figure out whot works for you."

That, and she's just a cool person.  I would almost be intimidated by her because I always do this with women I admire, but whenever we bump into her at a reading or something, she always waves us over like she's thrilled to see us.  Which helps a lot toward me getting over myself.

I was up visiting Michael the other day to pick up my portfolio from last quarter, and a current professor of mine walked in -- they share an office.  I can't imagine more opposite office mates.

Michael is pretty casual and easy-going in his button-up shirts and fleece vest.  He's begun class with Shel Silverstein poems.  He's teaching a Gaming-as-Literature course next quarter (Justin is so bummed he can't take it).  Dr. M. wears tailored suits every day (shoes shined perfectly, handkerchief in the pocket, hair perfect) and has a tendency to stop his lecture and stare students down if they have the gall to arrive late to his class (or worse, leave early).  He flicks the light off and back on again as he enters the room, as if to say, "Ok, I'm here, prepare yourself for a brilliant lecture." (which it will be -- the two hours fly by).  Michael teaches fairly non-traditional texts, and Dr. M. is passionate about the canon.

In fact, when my newer prof walked into the office, I said, "Oh, hi, Dr. M."

Michael looked up with a bit of shock.  "You're Dr. M.?"  Clearly he thought I'd been far too casual with a guy whose name is Nicholas, never Nick.

"Oh, yeah, I go by that sometimes," he said, a slight smile on his face.

I loved it.  It was all I could do not to burst out laughing.

Justin and I talked with them for a while, and they both took time to encourage me in their own ways.  Michael, by flipping through my notebook and saying, "You really started kicking ass there near the end of the quarter."  Dr. M., by grabbing his list of how many A's he'd awarded on the first exam (three), telling me that when I get an A on his exam, it means something.  I think he'd hate for me to think he's a soft grader.  He's got a reputation to uphold.  :)

These two very different professors both took time out of their day just to chat.  I don't know why this warmth surprises me, but it always does.  Although I've had varying degrees of success throughout my college experience, I'm so grateful for teachers who took time to get to know me, who made themselves available to help me along the way.  Even though some of these names are from classes almost ten years ago, I still remember.

I hope to be this kind of teacher someday.