A Momentary Diversion for a Day

Summary

The author recounts their experience with a memorable English Literature professor who made a lasting impression on the first day of class with his unique appearance and continued to inspire throughout the semester.

Abstract

The author, who writes a blog about living in Alaska, shares a personal story from their time at university. They describe their initial encounter with an unforgettable English Literature professor, whose striking appearance on the first day of class—resembling a '60s flower child—captivated the entire class. Despite the initial shock, the professor's deep knowledge and engaging teaching style earned the respect and admiration of the students, including the author. The professor's lesson on not judging a book by its cover resonated with the author, who reflects on the valuable insights gained from this mentor, emphasizing the impact of a teacher who stands out both in appearance and in teaching prowess.

Opinions

The author does not have a single favorite teacher but acknowledges that some leave a more significant impact than others.
The author initially questioned whether the professor's appearance was a joke or a mistake, highlighting a preconceived notion based on the professor's unconventional attire.
The silence of the class upon the professor's entrance signified a collective sense of surprise and curiosity.
The professor's unconventional appearance, including wearing wooden clogs and a paisley shirt, initially mesmerized and frightened the author and classmates.
The professor's tall stature, deep voice, and graceful movements commanded the class's attention effortlessly.
The author and their classmates were so intrigued by the professor's first-day appearance that they discussed it amongst themselves, indicating the profound impact of the professor's presentation.
The professor's transformation on the second day, dressing more conventionally, led to a shared moment of realization and levity in the class, reinforcing the lesson of not judging by appearances.
The author expresses deep respect and admiration for the professor, who became an inspiration through their knowledge, wit, and ability to challenge students' preconceptions.

Writing Prompts

Photograph by Author, Reflection of Author at my temporary Office in Juneau, Alaska

The Writing Challenge

I write a blog about Living in Alaska, which I started about six months after I moved to Alaska. I love writing about all my new adventures in Alaska. I write about what is unique to Alaska and what is the same as the lower 48 states. Sometimes taking a momentary diversion from “Living Alaska” is necessary for the creative soul. I will be going back to sea tomorrow and will lose the ability to post every day. I won’t be joining in the writing challenge because of my day job, but I wanted to write on June 2nds Challenge because it pertains to my writing.

The prompt asks: “Who was your favorite teacher or mentor growing up, and why?”

The University

I love learning. Not all classes are equal, and some teachers are better than others. So, I do not have a favorite teacher, but I do have ones that left a larger imprint on my mind than others. I was sitting in an English Literature class waiting for the Professor to show up on the first day of class. The class was a lower division pre-requisite for English major’s and full of sophomore students. We were all chatting with nervous excitement about the First Day of Class. I was busy checking out the cute girls in my class and had my back to the door, talking to two girls behind me.

The Professor

I was in mid-sentence when the class went deathly silent. I sensed the mood change and slowly swiveled in my chair to face the front of the class. A man six-foot eight wearing wooden clogs, bell bottoms and a nineteen sixties paisley flowered shirt walked up to the front desk and set his briefcase down. His straight hair reached his lower back, and with the clogs he looked like a seven-foot giant dressed like a 60’s flower child. The class stayed deathly silent as we watched the figure before us unload his class material.

The Apparition

I was mesmerized and frightened by the man before me. Was this my new English Literature teacher? Was this a joke? Was it Halloween? I could not seem to grasp the apparition in front of me. I was not alone in my thinking. You could hear a pin drop in the back of the classroom. The apparition paid the class no heed and went about setting up his desk with our class agenda and first day reading material. He moved slowly but gracefully as if each movement was practiced ballet. He made no sound as he moved and for a man that tall, he kept the class’s attention in rapture.

The Silence

He finished setting up the desk and straitened himself up to his full height. He walked to the podium and turned off the microphone. He did not need it. He was tall and thin, not a large man but his voice was a deep baritone that carried the room with ease, and the 45 students in class remained transfixed in deathly silence.

My Story

His demeanor and style captivated the class. He lectured with grace and enthusiasm for his subject matter. The class remained fixated throughout the class. The bell on the Campus Courtyard signaled the end of class and we all filed out the door with enlightened energy. I went home that day and immediately told my roommates about my new “teacher”. They laughed and we exchanged stories about our first day sophomore year. My story about the Giant Hippie Child Professor won the day.

Busted

The following day I entered the English literature class, and the Professor was now wearing jeans and a polo shirt regular tennis shoe and looked nothing like the apparition the day before. His hair now pulled into a tight ponytail looked like an esteemed Ivy League beatnik. I sat down quietly admiring the transformation of the Giant Hippie Child Professor. I quickly got my pen and notes out from the following day. He started the lecture with a huge smile and asked the class “how many of you went home last night and told your roommates about the Giant Hippie teaching your English class?” I smiled and laughed quietly, but soon the whole class let out a sigh of relief “busted”. We had all done exactly that.

Judging a Book by its Cover

He talked about not judging a book by its cover that day. My English literature professor earned both my respect, admiration, and loyalty that day. He never ceased to amaze me every day for the whole semester with his knowledge and wit. I learned quite a bit from this man, and even some English Literature. To this day I always remember him by his first day appearance and cherish the knowledge I gained from him. He was an inspiration to me and all my classmates. We loved him, clogs, and all.