Biography

They call me

Associate Professor of English

Favorite class

Hard to say because at least half of what happens in a class comes from the specific personalities of the students. Each class has its own dynamic, its own atmosphere. Give me a dozen curious, thoughtful, and talkative students and that’s my favorite class to teach.

If you weren’t a professor…

Ideally, I’d be a guitar builder. Realistically, a used bookstore clerk.

What kind of student were you?

Self–conscious and very quiet. I loved taking notes and I learned a lot from listening to my professors talk. As a professor, I of course love students who are eager to talk, but I try to remind myself that when I was a student I rarely said a word in class.

45s, hiking boots and guitar picks

I love playing guitars and listening to vinyl LPs. I also love traveling and hiking (particularly in the Four Corners region of the U.S. southwest).

Diary Entries

9/3/08

The new academic year has begun

The new academic year has begun and, as usual, I’m feeling pretty good about the new semester. One of the many things I love about teaching is the cyclical nature of the experience. It’s a bit like seasonal work: it’s finite and it has a predictable beginning and end. What that means for me is every new semester I feel like I get a clean slate: I get to start fresh and this time I’m going to get it right. I’ll pace my classes perfectly so that everyone feels on track and stimulated; I’ll stay on top of grading and not get behind; I’ll get the students enthused the first work and keep them excited all semester.

I never manage all of those goals, of course, but every September and January hope springs eternal.

This semester, all the classes I’m teaching I’ve taught before. I’ve tweaked and honed each course so that this time, what went awry last time won’t happen again. The books I’ve chosen are better, the syllabus is better organized, the assignments are clearer, my persona in the classroom is more effective.

How long until it all falls apart?

10/2/08

Extreme differences between two classes

Classes have now been meeting long enough to assume recognizable personalities. It’s fascinating to me how two sections of the same course can feel like such different experiences. I teach two sections of a course called “Masterpieces of Literature: Sexualities” back to back on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. The first class seems wary and reluctant to disclose their thoughts. This week we’ve been discussing Shakespeare’s Othello, and it feels a bit like I’ve kidnapped them and am holding them hostage. They look at me with a mixture of sadness and trauma in their eyes. I feel bad for them because I know wading through Shakespeare’s language is difficult, but I also feel like they’ve already decided there’s no way they’re going to enjoy the experience. I’m afraid my voice has taken on a pleading tone: “come on, guys, this is cool stuff! Really!” Nothing’s more pathetic than a teacher who resorts to pep rally tactics.

I’ve asked them to focus on the play as an exploration of competing “discourses” of femininity. Iago thinks women are untrustworthy harlots, and he constructs a vision of Desdemona that’s animalistic in its predatory carnality, but Othello (with able assists from Cassio and Roderigo) thinks women are paragons of virtue, and he can only see Desdemona as pure, chaste, and angelic. It’s the old Madonna or whore dichotomy, and the students ought to be fascinated, but the “quiet” class seems bored.

The other class is relaxed, casual, and spontaneous. Same reading, but decidedly different results. The students seem less self–conscious, more comfortable as individuals who can speak up and disagree with one another. Not everyone is glued to the discussion of the play, but I see nodding heads and knowing glances as I look around the room. And many of the students are clearly horrified by Othello’s misogyny (as well they should). The play is making an impression.

Why the difference between the two classes? Is it me? Have I projected onto them my own unconscious need to have diametrically opposed classes? Am I living out my own version of dividing the world up based on an inaccurate (and self–fulfilling) dichotomy?

Or is it the unique chemistry of each class? My “talky” class has more “characters” in it, enough students with “big” personalities to provide a critical mass for a “let it all hang out” atmosphere. Would one or two such students in the “quiet” class make the difference and transform it into a chattier group? Do students scope out each class for its “alpha” students and follow their lead? One or two talkative students means the rest of them sit back and remain quiet, but four or five talkative students invites everyone to join in on the fun? I really don’t know.

Don’t get me wrong: I like both classes, and there are excellent students in each one. But the “vibe” is completely different.

This is part of what makes my job so unpredictable and interesting. I sometimes feel like the students have more influence on the class environment than I do. After all, there’s only one of me and twentysomething of them.

Photo Album

	I like to cook. After a day of teaching, I find it therapeutic to work with my hands and senses instead of my head. Mediterranean food (cuisine from southern France to northern Africa) is my favorite. particularly making pasta and sauce from scratch.

Over the summer, I traveled to Costa Rica to visit Kathy Wolfe, my English department colleague, while she was living there on sabbatical (she has since returned). We spent most of our week there wandering around the country. Here I am on a hike down the Savegre river up in the mountains east of San José.

	We spent a few days on the Pacific coast, staying in an ecological preserve. Howler monkeys woke us up each morning at 4 a.m., but there was so much to see and do I didn’t mind getting up early. Here I am cooling off after a hike on the beach in a swimming hole near our cabin.

I love guitars and am fascinated by their construction. The necks, sides, and backs of many acoustic guitars are traditionally made from Central American mahogany. Now I’m no arborist, but I’m pretty sure that the tree in this photo is a mahogany. They were plentiful in the cloud forest around San Gerardo de Dota, where we spent a few days. It rained every day, so we always had our rain gear with us when we were out on hikes.

	Sunset on our last night on the Pacific Coast. Kathy took this picture of me and my partner, Gerise Herndon. Gerise teaches literature, gender studies, and film classes at Wesleyan. Back in 1993, I followed Gerise to Nebraska when she got her job at NWU and now, 15 years later, we both teach in the English department.

Larry McClain