Looking Back at Myself by GJ

In today's posts, I am reflecting upon three views of my career. From 1954 to 1957, I taught in a medium-sized, Iowa high school of about 500 +/- I think it was. During those three years, I discovered an exceptionally large number of good writers. (I'd like to think I helped in their development, but I really have to say that their foundation was far more responsible. They were prepared for me by some fine instruction, somewhere.) This is view number one.

I've often looked back on that school and those three years as the period in which I did my best work in teaching composition. But was it the teaching, as such? No, it was something in addition to the art of teaching. It was my "persona." I suspect that a lot of students thought I was a genuine "eccentric."

What IS an eccentric? Rojet's Thesaurus says it is "curious," "odd," "peculiar," "quirky," strange," "wacky," "odd-ball," " off-balance," etc.

Now I'll let you judge for yourself. A large part of the first semester of American Literature was devoted to Edgar Allen Poe. I loved Poe and I loved teaching his work. (I knew that he was probably addicted to drugs, but I more or less tried to deny this. I "suggested" that maybe they were wrong to accuse him.) I tried to cover for the fact that when he died, it was said that his body was found in an alley behind a tavern, or some such thing. Like a defense attorney, I tried to create reasonable doubt.

Now, I'd like to think that all of my efforts to "cleanse" Poe of negative images was done with a little smile on my face, or an expression that telegraphed my true knowledge. I wanted the students to "see through" their teacher, to share his secrets. I'm not sure I ever really did this, but I sort of recall saying, "Have you heard this rumor that I have a pet raven?" ("The Raven" may be Poe's most famous poem!) If somebody raised his hand, he was probably playing my game, and beautifully! Or, maybe I'd wear something black to school, and ask if anyone had heard the outrageous rumor that I ALWAYS dressed in black on the anniversary of Poe's death.

One thing is fairly certain in my mind, and that is, that I pretty well convinced about three classes full of juniors that I would be unhappy if anyone said anything bad about Poe. I think that most of them went along with my eccentric "act" because it was more fun than taking me seriously.

I do know this. The vice-principal at that school confided in me that several sophomores had been in his office, at one time or another, asking, "Does anybody else teach junior English?"

Some younger siblings had obviously heard about "wacky Mr. Van."

When I left that school in 1957, I went to a school of about the same size in another state about 15 months later. (I took time off from teaching, but that's a long story.) In short, I was so glad to get back into teaching, that I became more serious. Either in the "lay off," or the experiences during that time, I guess I lost most of my eccentricity. To tell the truth, I miss it. "Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.'"