Teaching at the community college
feels like important work. Students bare their souls on the page and I listen
and respond. Most students are in their 20s, but this past term I had ‘kids’
ranging from a 16-year-old high schooler to a 60-something retiree.
Each night class, we sit in a circle and share; personalities range from anxious to theatrical, inhibited to cocky, sweet to angry.
Each session, there are surprises on the page and in the room. By night end, my mind is nimbler, my knowledge of diverse lives expanded and my understanding of the Millennial generation richer.
The last class of the term, we go around the circle and share inspirations: a quote, book, movie, musician, artist or idea. This term, I toyed with the idea of sharing my personal story, reiterating the points I’d reached on “The Hero’s Journey.” This would be a good review of the story model we talked about the first night of class, and not just a review, but a working tool of one positive way to cope with the obstacles life will undoubtedly throw your way.
Each night class, we sit in a circle and share; personalities range from anxious to theatrical, inhibited to cocky, sweet to angry.
Each session, there are surprises on the page and in the room. By night end, my mind is nimbler, my knowledge of diverse lives expanded and my understanding of the Millennial generation richer.
The last class of the term, we go around the circle and share inspirations: a quote, book, movie, musician, artist or idea. This term, I toyed with the idea of sharing my personal story, reiterating the points I’d reached on “The Hero’s Journey.” This would be a good review of the story model we talked about the first night of class, and not just a review, but a working tool of one positive way to cope with the obstacles life will undoubtedly throw your way.
Monday night’s class came and went; I
opted against being a downer with my story of breast cancer. Besides, no one
knew I wore a wig. Why ruin the illusion now?
On Wednesday, I had a surgeon appointment and mentioned I was toying with the idea of sharing my chemo, my hair loss, the obstacles I’d reached so far on “The Hero’s Journey” with my class that night.
“They’ll probably say, ‘Sucks for you!’” she said.
We laughed.
Wednesday night came and, again, the timing didn’t feel right to go into my personal story. But a day later, I recapped my tale via the 12 elements of “The Hero’s Journey” and sent an e-mail to my Wednesday night class.
Five students responded with e-mailed notes. One student, Larry, gave me permission to share his story.
The funny thing is Larry probably didn’t need to hear about a good story model to apply to life’s struggles. To share the power of “The Hero’s Journey” with someone like Larry is hammering home a coping mechanism to someone who’s already spent a lifetime soldiering through obstacles.
Larry is a good decade older than most of the community college students. He struggled with ADHD and dyslexia as a kid. He hated English teachers and never learned to read until his mid-twenties when he finally taught himself. He’s struggled with writing ever since, working on bringing to life the stories he ‘composed’ in his mind while growing up on fishing boats in Alaska. He attributes a kind and patient writing instructor at one of the community college campuses as honoring his story-telling ability and making a difference in the way he viewed his writing.
Distractions continue to plague Larry and this past term was particularly difficult. For starters, he had a hefty workload and then he had to move. For much of the term, he lived in two places to accommodate bus travel to school.
Despite his personal challenges, Larry wrote me a three-page letter in response to my email. Here’s an excerpt:
“Your letter made me realize how many of my obstacles were trivial. We all have a space where we keep our troubles. No matter how big our troubles are, that space is the same size. Each of us takes our troubles and expands them to fill that space. We say to ourselves 'look at all I am going through. No one is enduring my tribulations.'
“The reality is most of us expand the difficulties we experience to fit our space for our troubles, never thinking some people have to deflate their troubles to fit into that space. Your story is a testimony of how little all of our problems really were during last term…
“…I hope that very soon you will be back like the rest of us having to inflate your troubles to fill your trouble space. Better yet after this storm passes may that space be so big you can never fill it.”
His letter made me cry. It also made me remember why I like teaching so much: I learn as much from students as they do from me.
On Wednesday, I had a surgeon appointment and mentioned I was toying with the idea of sharing my chemo, my hair loss, the obstacles I’d reached so far on “The Hero’s Journey” with my class that night.
“They’ll probably say, ‘Sucks for you!’” she said.
We laughed.
Wednesday night came and, again, the timing didn’t feel right to go into my personal story. But a day later, I recapped my tale via the 12 elements of “The Hero’s Journey” and sent an e-mail to my Wednesday night class.
Five students responded with e-mailed notes. One student, Larry, gave me permission to share his story.
The funny thing is Larry probably didn’t need to hear about a good story model to apply to life’s struggles. To share the power of “The Hero’s Journey” with someone like Larry is hammering home a coping mechanism to someone who’s already spent a lifetime soldiering through obstacles.
Larry is a good decade older than most of the community college students. He struggled with ADHD and dyslexia as a kid. He hated English teachers and never learned to read until his mid-twenties when he finally taught himself. He’s struggled with writing ever since, working on bringing to life the stories he ‘composed’ in his mind while growing up on fishing boats in Alaska. He attributes a kind and patient writing instructor at one of the community college campuses as honoring his story-telling ability and making a difference in the way he viewed his writing.
Distractions continue to plague Larry and this past term was particularly difficult. For starters, he had a hefty workload and then he had to move. For much of the term, he lived in two places to accommodate bus travel to school.
Despite his personal challenges, Larry wrote me a three-page letter in response to my email. Here’s an excerpt:
“Your letter made me realize how many of my obstacles were trivial. We all have a space where we keep our troubles. No matter how big our troubles are, that space is the same size. Each of us takes our troubles and expands them to fill that space. We say to ourselves 'look at all I am going through. No one is enduring my tribulations.'
“The reality is most of us expand the difficulties we experience to fit our space for our troubles, never thinking some people have to deflate their troubles to fit into that space. Your story is a testimony of how little all of our problems really were during last term…
“…I hope that very soon you will be back like the rest of us having to inflate your troubles to fill your trouble space. Better yet after this storm passes may that space be so big you can never fill it.”
His letter made me cry. It also made me remember why I like teaching so much: I learn as much from students as they do from me.
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