A Question of Inspiration

As a lowly English teacher / instructor / professor, I am quite familiar with the “tools of my trade”: books and textbooks of literature. The difference between a book and a textbook is not that important to this discussion, but, nevertheless, I will explain it: A book almost always covers one subject or topic or story and is commonly written by one author. A literature textbook contains more than one subject, topic, or story, and, while it often has one or more editors, it also features a number of authors. The latter offers a teacher a more varied amount of material to use in his or her class / course.

When I was a young person, I loved both. I loved reading particular authors, or topics, or themes. I felt enriched by the experience of reading, chiefly because those in authority over me chose helpful or inspirational books. My choices were not censured; rather, I was given a wide choice of appropriate material to feed my imagination, my interest, and my faith. God was, as I explained in a former post, a vital part of my education. Along with God, the Bible, and the Catholic Church, all sorts of positive influences filled my young heart and mind: examples in literature of discipline, hard work, truthfulness, honesty, dedication, and many more. In all my life, I have never regretted being taught these positive values. I am not rich, and I have no fame to speak of. “All” I have are good family members, good friends, and good memories – and an unshakable faith in a loving and gracious God.
 

Now on to the main theme of this post: The trend of many, many (too many) teachers and textbook editors to choose gross, expletive-filled stories that have few redeeming factors – and, if the truth be told, are rather devoid of writing merit. I will examine one example that has recently come to my attention.

A short story entitled “The Lesson” by Toni Cade Bambara is presently in a textbook used at a community college near me. If one were to sum up the story in a few sentences, it might go like this:
 

“A well-intentioned black woman by the name of Miss Moore surrounds herself with rough neighborhood teenagers who desperately need lessons in how to prosper in their disadvantaged circumstances. On the occasion in the story, the woman seems to be on the verge of connecting with them by transporting them to an expensive downtown store. The teenagers react in both usual and unusual ways.

"It is an open-ended story, not really giving away a clear ending. With hindsight and experience of the power of literature, an adult might actually be inclined to believe that it is a hopeful story, showing that breakthroughs are possible through education.”

Sounds innocent enough, right?

Not exactly. There’s the language. It’s not only raw; it’s offensive in the extreme. Lots of teachers applaud the dialog as “authentic.” However, that is a crutch for a flawed mentality. As a teacher myself, I actively refrain from using such language, even if I am reading this type of material aloud. Whenever I am trying to “relate” to students who are coarse and abrasive like the teens in the story, I insist that they refrain from such language. There are two directions in life: either you uplift yourself and the ones around you, or you fall – and they do, too. And bad language – despite the present-day illusion that it reflects “true reality” – never uplifts. Immoral behavior only dares students to imitate it. And – believe me – in many classroom discussions following the assignment of stories like this, all the students can talk about is the foul language. They don’t get the point, except the author’s free use of vulgarity.

One of my all-time favorite movies is Mr. Holland’s Opus. In brief, it is the story of a teacher, Glenn Holland, who accepts what he thinks is a short-term “gig,” but which turns out to be his life’s work. Near the beginning of the movie, Holland’s principal, Mrs. Jacobs, gives an unbelievably brilliant and succinct description of the job of a teacher: 

“A teacher has two jobs: Fill young minds with knowledge – yes. But more important, give those minds a compass, so that that knowledge doesn’t go to waste.”

 

How many teachers today have a well-thought out moral compass? How many teachers take the time to evaluate their own responsibilities to the Universe that brought them into life on this earth? (Please note: I am a Christian, and I believe that all life originates with God. But you don’t necessarily have to agree with me on this point in order to enter into dialog about what I am saying.) Where is the passion to lead young people through mere knowledge on to good experience, and then on to wisdom for living a good life?

Why are these things seemingly irrelevant in today’s Academia?

I have had enough of poorly-written essays and excerpts from books that inspire no one. Once, in my years teaching high school English, I inherited a class that required the students to read a book on being an author that stated – I kid you not – that the person who wrote the book could not tell the reader anything about being a writer! I questioned why we even required the class members to purchase it, if the author was so clueless about her “profession.” This was just the tip of an enormous, under-water iceberg, as I was to find out over the years.

For my second master’s in English and Creative Writing, I had to endure my unfair share of so-called “contemporary” literature. I vividly remembering having to read and comment on a particularly nasty short story, all about a teenager who was obsessed with making out on the beach, all the while worrying about getting sand in his condom! (That particular collection is no longer in my library.) I also had to read (and was pressured to agree with – which I never did) French atheistic writers (yes, this was an ENGLISH course!) who stated that words have no meaning. Well, I asked – more than once – what were we all “studying” in this Theory of Language class?

Don’t complain to me about being “puritanical” in my outlook – what’s wrong with that, anyway? The Puritans’ literature is sadly neglected, and I challenge anyone to engage me in a meaningful discussion over Jonathan Edward’s sermon, “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.” It is laughable to read the remarks now considered “correct interpretation.” Don’t ridicule me over my insistence that there should only be one Primary Speaker per class – and that NO college course should ever be considered a “free-for-all” when it comes to opinions. (Why pay good money to hear opinions? Why not sit in a coffee shop instead, and eat donuts and talk to strangers?) Don’t argue with me when I state that a teacher must lay out firm rules from the very beginning. (I once had a student who “informed” me that his father gave him permission to leave the classroom whenever he wanted. I thanked him for the information, and then told him what would actually happen if he followed his father’s rule instead of mine. Needless to say, I won.)

Let me sum up my thoughts in three statements:

Teachers should set moral standards based on Godly (or at least time-honored) wisdom.

A teacher’s role is to inspire students, not give them lessons in crude speech.

All teaching material should uphold standards of moral excellence, not reflect moral decadence.