Showing posts with label teaching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label teaching. Show all posts

Friday, June 01, 2018

So, what do you do?


How often has this happened to you? You’re talking to someone and either you or the other person asks what you do for a living.

It happens all the time. I’d say it happens to me at least once a week, and I’m probably being too conservative.

But how do you answer?

For me, I usually say I’m a writer. Sometimes I say I’m an editor. Other times I say I’m a journalist.

They’re all true.

When I tell people that I write or that I work with words, they make assumptions about me. They assume I’m creative, for example. Some assume something about my level of education. Some others try to stump me on a random subject, as though writers know everything about everything.

You know who else we tend to think those same things about? Teachers.

I know I do.

It makes sense, because at a certain level, most writers are also teachers.

Even though I minored in education and did my student teaching, I never served professionally as a formal teacher. I served as an instructor for various short-term classes, but it wasn’t my full-time job.

I spent a few years conducting classes at YMCAs where I was a full-time employee, but I was running programs. I thought of it as different.

I was wrong. I was a teacher and an instructor and a coach. I’ve realized lately that I still am.

I suspect this old saying (meant as a joke) is still told: Those who can’t do, teach (and the corollary: Those who can’t teach, teach gym.)

I never really liked those jokes, though I probably told them more than once, too.

But within those sayings is something that is certainly true, even if it feels like it shouldn’t be: You don’t have to be an expert to teach.

As writers, we should have lots of skills that non-writers envy. Our ability to imagine out-of-the-ordinary scenarios is one of my favorites. A way with words is another.

I was talking with my sister recently about another trait that she and my brothers share: We’re good at grammar. I suspect it had a lot to do with our parents, but we always valued quality writing. We read it often. It’s true that reading quality writing helps writers recognize bad writing.

Sometimes our preconceived notions of what something should look like distract us from what something is.

Maybe we think of teachers as people at the front of a classroom lecturing on how to do a task. My best teachers also taught why things are the way they are. They taught about perspectives.

Sharing perspectives is absolutely a part of writing.

From my perspective, I’m still a writer. I’m still an editor. I’m still a journalist. And when people ask what I do, those are the answers I’ll still give them.

But perhaps it’s time to change my perspective and see how my vocation and avocation can change how I answer those questions.

How about you? What do you do?


Fix the grammar glitch:

In the comment section, please indicate which sentence below is correct.

a) Please contact Amy or me if you have any questions.
b) Please contact Amy or I if you have any questions.
c) Please contact me or Amy if you have any questions.


Sunday, October 26, 2008

Haruki Murakami, Cal, and Obsessive Lonely Men

Haruki Murakami, one of my favorite short story writers (and an accomplished novelist), recently received the inaugural Berkeley Japan Prize — that's Berkeley as in University of California at... (a.k.a. 'Cal' for those who wonder if people wearing a Cal hat are actually named Cal.)

I don't read enough of his work, but wherever I find something about him, I enjoy learning about a man who is either a natural writer or the most unlikely writer you'd ever meet. To my mind, that obvious contradiction is an example of why he's so interesting a writer. For example, he decided while attending a baseball game that he was going to become a writer. No training. According to the Cal press release: "When asked about the revelation that led him to writing at age 29, the author described watching his favorite baseball team, the Yakult Swallows, in 1978. An American player on the team, Dave Hilton, hit a double, and as Murakami cryptically explained it, 'On that sunny day drinking beer, I just knew I could write.' Soon thereafter he submitted his first short novel, Hear the Wind Sing, to a publisher, and saw it win the Gunzou Literature Prize for promising young writers in 1979."

I wasn't aware that his nonfiction book Underground was based on interviews with people who survived the 1995 Sarin gas attack in the Japanese subway system. The victims — mostly commuting workers — told boring stories, he said. But, he added, “if you try hard to listen, to like them, to love them, then their stories become interesting. Everyone has his own story.”

I couldn't agree more.

My boring/interesting story is this: In 1994, I attempted to become a teacher of English in Japan through the YMCA. I was working in a Y at the time and a colleague who knew I was unsatisfied with my job encouraged me to try the teaching program in Japan. He was Japanese and said he thought I would fit in well there, unlike many Americans (I'm not entirely sure I understand why, but I took it as a compliment.) I studied and prepared and I thought I did well in my interview. For reasons I've forgotten now, I'd felt that I would probably end up in an area near Kobe. But I never made it to another round of interviews. The number of available spots was severely cut back (I'd been among 32 people interviewed for 16 spots, but then the number was cut to either eight or four, I don't recall which now.) I left the job and, as fate would have it, ended up meeting the woman who is now my wife. Kobe, Japan, experienced a devastating earthquake. And I was left that classic writer's question: What if?

It was more than ten years before I read Haruki Murakami again. Perhaps none of this is related.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

The Truth About Fiction

I ran across a nice little Q&A in the Washington Post. It's an interview with Professor Bonnie Libby, who teaches literature at the University of North Carolina, Greensboro.

I don't know Professor Libby, and I don't know if she and I would agree on everything, but that's quite all right. I found this quote interesting:

"[W]e talk about the constant allure of sin, and that too often vice (especially our own) does not disgust us. Good literature should illuminate this human tendency and make us care to correct it. Certainly, literature often depicts the baser aspects of human nature; otherwise it wouldn't be true. But many times, we Christians get hung up on the obvious vices like profanity or sexual immorality, while dismissing more prevalent and pernicious moral evils like pride, superiority and envy."

As someone who has written a novel that includes a healthy dose of sin and vice as well as profanity and sexual immorality, I say: Amen.