Professors are Teachers Two

COLLEGE

Lawrence University held a cacophony of angels for me. After the initial exhilaration of being able to choose what I wanted to study, college became a continual lesson in politics for me, personal and public. What I recognize now, is that one of the things that make small liberal arts colleges so dynamic is the constant clashing of ego's; those newly forming ( students ) and those so strongly built ( professors ) that heated, passionate argument, debate and discussions are never ending. It was quite a shock to me.

What I see now, but couldn't then, was that because a University is traditionally a place ruled by intellect and demonstrable accomplishment. Ego's rule the roost. Professors must “publish or perish” to be rewarded with tenure or continued employment. Students obviously must perform to make the grade. Pretty “heady stuff”, literally. In light of this intense focus on the intellect , the heart and soul, while studied intellectually are rarely unleashed or honored. There were some notable exceptions to that rule at Lawrence for me.

My freshman year I took a seminar taught by the head of the physics department. Dr. Physics was utilizing Kuhn's, “The Structure of Scientific Revolution”, as our discussion material. After one brief scan of the first chapter of this book, I knew I was in way over my head and decided to not read the bulk of the book. Instead, I chose to outline it using essentially the first and last paragraph of every chapter as my guide.

In short, I walked into the class with an understanding of the theme of the book and was able to hold my own in the discussion. Many of my classmates were so ( understandably ) lost in the weeds of the detailed scientific examples in the book, that they were unable to even see the point. Dr. Physics took notice and when I needed a recommendation to be accepted into the college ( I sang my way into the conservatory of music ), he was there for me. An angel.

David Ball and David Feldshuh were visiting artists in the theatre department, both brought a “real world” perspective to the my studies, and challenged me in new ways as a burgeoning artist. Both David's had active and fertile intellects that loved to question. It was illuminating for me to find Feldshuh at a point in his life where he had returned to school and was studying medicine. What? You can choose to change your mind and go a different direction? Awesome. David Ball had me working onstage playing Oberon in A MidSummer Night's Dream wearing nothing but a g-string. This was illuminating in its own way. He later gave me a lead on my first apartment in NYC. Thank you, Davids.

Dr. Mark Malinauskas was the Chair of the Theatre department my freshman year who's first words to me were, “I've never met a successful tall actor.” Considering the fact he was literally tall enough to look me in the eye when he said it, the irony was inescapable. He guided and coached me through my Junior year, often in tutorial. Giving me the opportunity to have some major break-throughs in my acting as well as helping me lose my Minnesotan accent. ( I know, I know Minnesotans don't have accents. Right... ) Another Mark quote indelibly etched in my mind is, “Who told you life is fair?” I don't remember the circumstance, but I'm sure the sound immediately before he said it, was my voice screaming. Thank you Mark.

Dr. Sherman Howard was a Dean of Something or Other and also taught Theatre Criticism. He taught me it was not only possible to have more than one correct interpretation of something, it was desirable. ( Particularly if you wanted to pass his class ) This lesson has served me well, so many times, in all of my pursuits. Thank you Dr. Howard.

Dr. Long as I remember, was the Chair of the Math department. (He was a fascinating man, BA in Psychology, MA in Philosophy and PhD in Math – What! ) So I guarantee you I never got anywhere near wherever that building resided on the campus. I did however have the enviable experience of participating in a reading group led by Dr. Long in his rather empty home, discussing Humanistic Psychology. I suspect anyone who has read this blog understands the impact of those discussions.

I wonder if he ever bought any furniture for that living room? I mean it looked good and all with a case of beer in the middle surrounded by learned and lovely coeds... but maybe a couch would work? Just a thought. Thank you Dr. Long.