I've spent a fair amount of time on the ice in the last few days. It was a treat to see the wonder on my nephew's girlfriend's face as she walked/fished/kept warm on ice for the first time--it was also fun to see how good she was about the wet foot she got when she stepped in a hole. No fuss, just fun. She's a winner.
The four days of our festivities brought back to me what a socially odd person I am. It was interesting to feel again how I contribute to these family gatherings, when people come to visit my mother and me. The things I'm best at aren't things that add much to these settings. I teach and read and write. They can't share my teaching, they don't read much compared to me and certainly not the scholarly work I consume, none of them write and have only passing interest in the writing I do--with the exception of Mom. Not much for me to offer from my professional life or even my private life, which is mostly made up of reading.
They have spouses/significant others, children or plans for them, or they are children; I have no spouse/significant other, children or plans for them. That I don't have these things is painful to me and so I have come to the point that I rarely speak of such matters; they know that and so don't speak of them either. They are young and strong and socially engaged or they are little children; I am neither young nor old nor socially engaged in the ways that couples are or even very much at all. In this family setting, I am very much the odd man out.
Yet it is easy for me to pay attention to them and for them to like and pay attention to me. I like young people and am interested in them and what they do. I like their energy and the things they tell me about modern life--things I won't know of my own far more solitary experience. In this my encounters with my family are analogous to my teaching. I'm not teaching my family, but I live this experience-through-others in my teaching and on those few occasions that young people are in my home. I take pleasure in paying attention. I like to hear of the lives of others, of experiences I haven't had.
That characteristic, liking to hear what others think, may be one of my strengths as a writing teacher. It certainly is a big part of what I can offer to family members whose lives are much different from mine.
The four days of our festivities brought back to me what a socially odd person I am. It was interesting to feel again how I contribute to these family gatherings, when people come to visit my mother and me. The things I'm best at aren't things that add much to these settings. I teach and read and write. They can't share my teaching, they don't read much compared to me and certainly not the scholarly work I consume, none of them write and have only passing interest in the writing I do--with the exception of Mom. Not much for me to offer from my professional life or even my private life, which is mostly made up of reading.
They have spouses/significant others, children or plans for them, or they are children; I have no spouse/significant other, children or plans for them. That I don't have these things is painful to me and so I have come to the point that I rarely speak of such matters; they know that and so don't speak of them either. They are young and strong and socially engaged or they are little children; I am neither young nor old nor socially engaged in the ways that couples are or even very much at all. In this family setting, I am very much the odd man out.
Yet it is easy for me to pay attention to them and for them to like and pay attention to me. I like young people and am interested in them and what they do. I like their energy and the things they tell me about modern life--things I won't know of my own far more solitary experience. In this my encounters with my family are analogous to my teaching. I'm not teaching my family, but I live this experience-through-others in my teaching and on those few occasions that young people are in my home. I take pleasure in paying attention. I like to hear of the lives of others, of experiences I haven't had.
That characteristic, liking to hear what others think, may be one of my strengths as a writing teacher. It certainly is a big part of what I can offer to family members whose lives are much different from mine.
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