TO MEME OR NOT TO MEME. Pts. 1-4

For no particular reason, at least none of which I am aware, I have been thinking of an incident which occurred just over a decade ago, when I was employed as an adjunct professor at Southeastern University; my old alma mater.

Spence Hall, an academic building, formerly nursing home, which has since been demolished in favor of a much larger, more modern building, served as my first undergrad teaching environment. I happened to be assigned the first classroom on the north end of the building, and from the moment I stepped inside, I liked it.

While not the most modern classroom in the 48 continental states of the union, it was, however, very spacious, and was possessed of a rather ‘homey’ feeling.

Beginning from my first semester ‘til my last, seven semesters later, I practiced innovative teaching. I refused to get stuck in the textbook, but rather, I added a great deal of material to the academic resources from whence I taught, and sometimes took my students on issue-oriented campus tours. I especially enjoyed ‘setting up’ under a tree on a sporadic basis.

And from time to time I invited guest speakers to my classroom.

Rita S. attended my church,  and was, (and continues to be) a person of excellence. And as she entered her junior year of high school, I offered her the opportunity to take advantage of my year-long, formal mentoring program. She later spent several weeks in Mainland China, over the course of two summers, and provided English literacy skills to prospective exchange students there.

While Rita was a student at Florida-Atlantic University, I asked her to do a mime presentation in several of my classes; a genre for which she was known, and which she enjoyed a great deal.

Pt. 2

While it has been far too long since my dear former intern presented her mimes to my Ed Psych classes for me to accurately describe, (nor do I remember the lyrics to which she performed) suffice it to say Rita’s movements were accompanied by background music, and focused on the Christian experience; especially stepping away from darkness, and the things which tend to keep us stuck.

Something Rita said to me, however, is as fresh in my mind as the day she uttered it.

As I recall, she had done me the favor of sharing her story with one of my current interns, and as she was about to ‘head out,’ she uttered the most beautiful words I think I have ever heard during the course of my natural life.

“Dr. Bill, I don’t want to disappoint you. I’ll go for you when you can no longer go. I’ll speak for you when you are no longer able to speak. I’ll reach, teach and keep people in your name; long after you have gone on to your reward.”

Ohhhh! How absolutely marvelous!

Interesting, that I had previously seen an adage flash on the overhead screen at Rita’s baccalaureate exercise.

“My students are living messages to a time that I will never see.”

(And, indeed, they are).

Rita’s promise to me that day continues to resonate in my spirit, and I will always be grateful for her awareness of, and love for three words which I, myself, consider the most crucial variables with which God has ever graced His children.

Heritage

Destiny

Legacy

Pt. 3

But to return to a particular mime presentation which Rita performed in one of my first semester classes.

I remember that I had introduced my former intern to the class, and she had shared a bit of her testimony. At which time, she proceeded to punch the button on the CD player, and mime her way through a musical selection.

Rita was, perhaps, a minute from the end of her selection, and ‘waxing eloquent’ to the music, when suddenly one of the two classroom doors burst open, and an irate, middle-aged female professor appeared.

And without so much as a ‘howdy-do,’ the veteran educator graced us with her verbal audacity. (It goes without saying, my friend immediately ceased and desisted, and was, without doubt, as dumb-struck as her mentor, and his students).

“Professor Manley” came down on me and my guest performer like white on rice.

“Do you realize how loud that music is? Do you realize you’re disturbing my class? Do you realize you have interrupted a very important lecture? Please exercise a little courtesy!”

And with this, my fellow faculty member stormed out of my classroom.

It goes without saying that Professor M. was a tenured faculty member, and that she was all too aware of my adjunct status. It also goes without saying that the spirit of Rita’s performance was irrevocably broken, and that, in conjunction with this rude interruption, she had punched the ‘stop’ button on the CD player.

To say I was embarrassed for my guest performer, and the students who seemed so enthralled with her presentation, might be like saying, “Jesse Owens enjoyed jogging.”

Pt. 4

I think I will always remember that day, and I think I will always sense the slightest of emotional pain when I think of it. There are some things which come to pass which, with time, simply do not elicit the slightest smile, much less raucous laughter.

This is one of those things.

But I think Rita and I learned a valuable lesson that day, one which in the absence of the event we might not have been so keenly aware.

The qualities which occur to me, (and which, as a result, have subsequently been strengthened in my own life) are Tact and Grace and Humbleness.

I could not have known that the music to which Rita ‘strutted her stuff’ was so loud as to disturb a nearby classroom. (At least, the volume seemed rather nominal in my own). And my dear intern was only doing what she had done many times before. And, no doubt, the decibel level was approximately the same as to which she’d long be accustomed.

I think I might have apologized to Professor M. had she not totally ‘taken me aback,’ showered us with copious admonitions, and stormed out the door. However, in introspect, I think she owed both me and my guest presenter an apology. (One which, by the way, we never received).

But, as I have previously inferred, I am somehow grateful for this hard-won lesson, and I think it has helped engender a sensitivity in me to exercise Tact and Grace and Humbleness towards saint and sinner, alike.

There is a beautiful bronze statue on the campus of my alma mater which has been set in the middle of a lovely little fountain.

Jesus Washing the Apostle Peter’s Feet

Abject humbleness. Amazing grace.

I cannot walk past this lovely place, and consider the audacious outcome of Jesus’ willingness to die to self, and live to others, without being triggered to remember a day, and time when someone modeled a different kind of behavior, and, as a result, conjured up a rich, and enduring sensitivity within me.


by William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 70. Copyright pending 

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