Tuesday, November 3, 2015

Starving Liberal Artistry

“You’ve got no intestinal fortitude, Scoville,”
Coach  advised me at lunch while I applied
butter to my saltines  Long ago I told a
required 8 0’clock  composition class they
could attend or not and let them grade
themselves. Cowardice?   Civil Disobedience?.

A class in  transcendental romanticism turned
the tables on me, wrestled in the middle of the
room, did pirouettes on the desk tops, laughed
and laughed.  From time to time no one will talk
the whole period. Frontiers yet unknown.

First day teaching at Warren Wilson,
basement of Carson, late August, 1971:
I  asked  a question  and we sat silent
until  9:00 –ruminating. Contemplating.
O my wondering, Considering.  Deferring
response. Hesitating to reduce.  And
off to another class or work or service.

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