Saturday, November 7, 2009

The Days After

It's the hardest part of the job.

Okay, well, maybe the second hardest part. Yesterday, I gave back the English 1080 comparative analysis essays. I know some of those grades hurt, especially those of you who failed this assignment. It bothers me whenever I have to assign a failing grade, but I know that does nothing to help you.

What I hope does help are the comments I made on all of those essays. That's what they're for. Read them line-by-line and figure out what you're doing wrong, as well as what you're doing right. Make adjustments. It really is as simple as that...sort of.

I know English is not a favorite subject for a lot of you. That might be an understatement. In fact, I'm sure it is. That might even be part of the problem.

However, I am assuming that English is the first language for almost all of you, and it's not a bad idea to know how to use it well. Equally important, it's a grand idea not to be ill-used by the language because I guarantee that if you're not proficient with it, there will be many times in your life where that lack of expertise is going to cost you in some way--whether it's manipulation by a politican or lawyer, a media outlet, or a union negotiation, contract, or letter of some kind. Somewhere along the way, you're going to wish you understood a little better how to understand the nuances of what's being said to you. Or that you knew how to use the language a little better to get your own way in some way.

Critical analysis and rhetoric are part and parcel of the same package: if you repeatedly exercise the part of your brain that allows you to analyze language and its various effects and uses, you also become more proficient at the art of rhetoric, as well as defending yourself against it.

Consider me your "Teacher of the Dark Arts," except not in a Harry Potterish sort of way. The things I'm trying to teach you might not save your life in a battle against a Dark Lord. I would never be so bold as to assume that it would. But then, I wouldn't bet against it either. Knowing how to communicate properly to a doctor, firefighter, police dispatch, or 911 operator has saved many a life, I am certain. The ability to converse, orally or in writing, with a lawyer, accountant, landlord, government bureacrat, or contractor might save you tons of money, perhaps--in the extreme--even jail time and embarassment even of the smallest sort.

There's no downside here; that's what I'm saying.

As I've been saying all week (when I was able to speak): learn to communicate clearly and life will be immensely easier for you.

I've seen people try to communicate with government ministers' offices for the right to have medicine for their deathly ill spouses, and the request was turned down because of a misunderstanding of the how dire the need is. Or for some other reason. You see, you are constantly being judged by how you speak and how well you listen. It's just the way the world works.

Enough about that. It's important for you to know that I want every student to pass. I wouldn't be much of a teacher if I didn't. I want the students who work hard to get A's. I want everybody's grades to go up and up.

But sometimes it doesn't work that way. Sometimes, you take a step or two backwards before you can move forward again. I think that's what's happening with a lot of you. Don't worry: just do something about it. Read my comments until you understand what I'm saying to you. I would never intentionally rob you of grades you deserve. If I gave you a low grade, it's because I thought your PAPER (not you, personally) deserved it. But it's only one paper. There will be others.

It's like losing a battle. The lessons learned from that battle should teach you how to prepare for the next battle. The scars you've earned can help you win the overall war.

Don't approach these next essays with fear or trepidation. Sure, a little fear can be your friend sometimes. But it's best to strive for somethng positive--for the grade you want or, better yet, to communicate something vital about the human condition. Yes, I said the human condition, for that's what all great literature is about. Don't turn up your nose or roll your eyes, because right now you're immersed in the human condition. It is you and it is about you, and we all have our little dramas going on that both separate us and join us together at the same time. They unite us in our humanity: when we analyze literature, that's what we're doing: looking for the humanity.

I don't think we're looking for someone to tell us what we "should" do. That would be arrogant and presumptuous of any fiction writer or poet. But they are trying to highlight some aspect of being human, trying to inflict understanding upon the reader. He or she is not trying to teach us, necessarily, but to show us. If in seeing, we learn something, then that's a private matter.

And it is our private matters that define us. Our public matters too often are more hype, gloss, and mask than personal or human. It is when literature touches us personally, pokes us where we live, that its stories and poems and songs have performed well. And it is when we find the words to express that moment of being touched that we are, perhaps, most human. Having said that, I also understand that some of the most profound moments in one's life can leave you speechless. But those who recover their sense in time to express their thoughts and feelings are the ones who inspire us in a way that we truly need: Lincoln, Kennedy, Mandela, and recently Obama, among others. They all have suffered. They all have found words in tragedy. They all have been humiliated. They each have triumphed. And they have done so through words.

That is how they inspire.

These are your words too. With the exception of George W. Bush, who should not be "misunderestimated" in his importance in history, very few such people resort to making up new words. They don't have to. Like any good carpenter, they can take the tools that are given and build something awe-inspiring.

These are the same tools at your disposal. They're only words. Learn how to use them. Pick them up. Learn how to wield them. Don't be afraid. You have something inside of you that will allow you to inspire, if only you can choose just the right words. But you have to be clear: if you are not being understood, your words will fall on deaf ears. They will "fork no lightning".

Okay, so I get a little melodramatic as a I go. But I believe it all. It's just that most people don't take time to say such things and most of us wince at the sound of such truths. Not my problem. I say what I mean. I just want you to do the same.

And for that, we have words. Use them wisely, and they will serve you well.

I hope to get time to post again tomorrow, probably with some thing a little more specific.

This is more of a pep talk, really, and just keeping the lines of communication open.

I care how you do in this course. I want every student to succeed. To me, success means improvement. There is no other way for a conscientious teacher, or a caring student, to measure it. It means you're moving forward at least.

If you didn't move forward this time, then you begin again and take the hill next time. With only a month left in the semester, it's time to double the effort, to not give in because of one or two bad grades.

"Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Great ending quote!

Gerard Collins said...

Thanks. Dylan Thomas thanks you too. :-)