To all my high school teachers...

I don't know if Mr. Graham or any of my other high school teachers still read this (I know Mr. Graham did, but I realize its hard to keep up), but I thought a lot about my time in high school today. In particular, I had to think like a teacher. And, put myself in my teacher's shoes (to use a cliched expression). Which, also happened to be part of the focus of the lecture I gave this morning.
But, to back up for a minute, I just changed classes this week. I am teaching with all teachers I know now, which is good and bad. Its good because I am familiar and it is easier to work with people you know. But, they also know that I am not afraid of talking about more intellectual things. So, my friend Alixe asked me to read a book that she was teaching to her english literature class and then help her lecture on it. Well, at first it sounded like fun because I wouldn't have to talk about robots and lie detectors and have simple conversations about technological things that I couldn't care less about. After I read the book a couple of weeks ago, I didn't realize how much work it was to prepare lectures for a class about literature. As most of you know, I was a philosophy major with almost a double major in psychology. This kind of makes accessing literature a little more difficult. So, I had to harken back to the days of old when I had English classes with the likes of Mr. Graham and Dr. Holley. I wanted to do the class more like we did with Mr. Graham and just go through the text sort of line by line and talk about the importance and certain literary techniques. But, Alixe wanted me to lecture on a theme or topic, so I chose the differing perspectives and their import in post-colonial, post-modern literature. The book we read was Wide Sargasso Sea. I haven't read Jane Eyre and I hadn't studied either. Thus, I was a little behind as far as my ability to really dig into the text, but I wasn't going to let that stop me. I did all the preparation I could last night (I thought I was going to listen to the first lecture this week and start next week until yesterday). I prepared for several hours. I had made pages of notes and page references. I had big introduction, lots of questions, two long expositions of the two main characters and then a big quote for the end that would tie up the loose ends and allow me to pontificate on my distaste (or let's be honest) down right hatred for the use of the term post-modern and even more what it often represents. I was scared, but ready.
Alixe gave me my introduction to the class, and we jumped right in. No one exactly slept through my class, but pretty close. These are students who speak French natively but understand English well and speak it pretty well. Yet, there barely responded to anything I said. I explained the devastation of being rejected by your mother in your most vulnerable point, replete with body movements and flowerly language and the like but I got no response. When I asked them how they would feel, the only thing I got was "sad," not even a complete sentence!
This was when I realized that I never completely understood the work that goes into teaching a class. Its hard for a teenager to escape there egocentrism, especially for someone as egocentric as I was in high school. I never really realized how hard it is to be a teacher and pour out your soul in front of them and get no reaction. I had a much greater respect for what my teachers had done in high school. I think it is particularly hard for high school teachers because the students have to be in the classroom. In college, it is difficult sure, but there it is more voluntary then high school. The good thing now though, as a teacher, is I know exactly what it is like to be a student. I don't want to be too hard on them because it is difficult in a foreign language at 8 in the morning on a Thursday to be really excited about difficult literature like Wide Sargasso Sea. But, like I taught my students today, I have a much better understanding of what teachers have to go through.
The strange thing was, I love every minute of it. By choice, I stayed and taught the second hour as well. I didn't get through but much more than a quarter of what I wanted to, but I loved it. The few times that they did respond and understand were all the more meaningful. I don't know if they will remember all that much about Wide Sargasso Sea, but hopefully, like me, they will someday appreciate even more how important our teachers are. And, for Mr. Graham, if you make it this far, A River Runs Through It is still one of my favorite books. I have it here with me in France actually. I still remember you teaching it in my Junior year and am still able to enjoy the beauty of the language that Maclean employs in that wonderful text.
I don't know if in my future I will be teaching literary texts, probably not, but I hope that I continue to get the opportunity to teach things that I am passionate about like theology, philosophy and good literature.