Another English Class: One Where "A's" Were Scarce
(A theme a week?)Immediately after the class bell had rung, Miss Belle Potter, our new English teacher, announced to a filled but hushed room, "Everyone of you must understand on this very first day that you are here to learn to write. Is that clear?"
I knew the question was not meant to be answered, but I did not learn until sometime later--from this same Miss Potter-- that such a question is known as a rhetorical one.
Seated in one of the rear seats, I was able to see only the head and shoulders of this small woman, certainly no more than five feet tall. Not only was she small; she was also quite undistinguished in appearance. Anyone of the big athletes in that room could have picked her up easily with just one hand, but of course no one tried.
How was it, I asked myself, these usually boisterous students were listening so intently to her? And more specifically, why was I also sitting there so quietly and making every effort not to miss anything she said. Some other teachers in that same school, as well as many of my classmates, would probably have said this was rather unusual classroom behavior for me. And yet I sat there almost spellbound and continued to pay close attention.
"Time is far too valuable to waste," she went on. "The only way to learn to write is to write. So that is what you are to do--frequently and thoughtfully." She paused a moment and then added, "I am here to help you do that, but I cannot and will not even try to do it for you."
There was no doubt this woman was serious and meant exactly what she was saying. It was also apparent she was the one in charge and that she fully expected us to comply with whatever rules and procedures she would set down. All this was considerably different from the previous year's freshman English class. And I wasn't at all sure that I would like this new situation.
"This is how we will spend each week," she said quietly and in measured words. "On each Friday every student will hand in to me a theme written in long hand, not typed, on a subject assigned by me or one selected by the student and approved by me in advance. Next, ---"
"A Theme every Friday, teacher?" one boy exclaimed in belief. "We've never had to do that before."
Miss Potter was quick to respond but not in direct answer to his comment. "What is your name, young man?" she inquired as she took a step toward him.
"Tom Furlong," he replied, somewhat taken aback.
"Well, Tom," she said firmly, "before I comment any further on the frequency of themes to be handed in, I must tell you one or two things not at all related to that matter." We all wondered what she was going to say now. We soon found out.
"First of all," she said looking directly at Tom, "you interrupted me in the middle of a sentence. And even though you probably did not intend to be rude, it was discourteous of you to break in when I was talking. Please do not ever do that again."
A brief silence and several raised eyebrows followed her comment, and then she added, "I assure all of you in this class that I will abide by the same rule. I will never interrupt any of you, except in an emergency, or when I feel some one is monopolizing too much of the group's time."
My, my, I thought. Here was a person to be reckoned with. Her advice about interrupting some one could not be contested, and its good sense was beginning to sink in on all of us. I glanced over at Tom. Somewhat shaken, he was looking at her solemnly, obviously waiting for her to make her next point.
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