Recently a former student of mine wrote me a nice thank you note in which she mentioned how she would never forget the moment I told the class that I averaged thirteen major drafts per story. This—a casual remark I happened to drop in my lecture—was the most illuminating moment of the semester for her. I remember mentioning the number not because I find it revelatory, but because I find it amusing: Thirteen! So unlucky! And so weirdly consistent. The remark certainly wasn’t written into my lesson plan, and it wasn’t one of the sound bites that I’m careful to repeat all semester. It was tossed off, the kind of thing I don’t usually say because it’s about me rather than them. And yet, out of the whole semester, that was the lesson this student found most important. Teaching is like that much of the time. The off-the-cuff remarks, the of-the-moment lessons, the things you didn’t notice much are the things that strike chords with students.
I haven’t been a student since 1999, so this incident made me think: what things do I remember?
(I believe in giving credit where credit is due, so I’m mentioning names. I know I have been absurdly lucky to study with these masters, and I give thanks for it.)
Joyce Carol Oates: “This is a good sentence. You don’t usually write sentences like that.” I actually remember the sentence, which was in a writing exercise, not a story, and was long, full of clauses, which I now know to call appositives, that went much further with description than I usually did. I’m sure I remember her remark because of the backhanded nature of the compliment, but it was one of the most helpful things a teacher ever told me. It showed me where to go as opposed to where not to go. Continue reading “Things My Teachers Taught Me”