In the spring of 1966 I was feeling simultaneously free--and frightened. I had completed my student teaching (11th grade--West Geauga HS) but still had one term remaining at Hiram College before graduation. I was living at home again (after some dorm time). My dad taught at the college, and our house was only about a quarter of a mile from the campus.
So ... feeling free. A senior. Most of my requirements completed. Student teaching over. Graduation imminent ...
But frightened?
Well, I'd thought I was going to graduate school the following year: I'd been accepted into the American Studies program at the University of Kansas. But I'd recently learned some dark news: no $$ would come my way from Kansas. So I couldn't afford to go ...
Now what?
I applied for two teaching positions--one in nearby Garrettsville, where my mom was finishing a ten-year (stellar) career. She and dad had accepted positions at Drake University (Mom had just completed her Ph.D.) for 1966-67. My older brother was in grad school (Harvard); my younger brother would begin his undergrad career (Harvard) that year.
I was going to be alone here in Ohio.
I also had applied for a job in Aurora, eleven miles from Hiram.
Aurora called first. They had an opening at the middle school, and I snapped it up, even though my critic teacher at West Geauga HS had cautioned me: Don't ever get stuck in a junior high school!
I was ecstatic ... I would be rich! Starting salary was $5100!
Anyway, that final spring at Hiram I took my last class with my favorite professor, Dr. Abe C. Ravitz--a course in contemporary American literature. I hardly recognized a single name on his reading list--and his reading lists were always long. Fifteen books or so--every class I took from him. And I took every one I could--didn't always get an A. Didn't always deserve one.
Among the writers we read that spring? James Purdy. Bernard Malamud. Shirley Hazzard.
And Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. (1922-2007)
I was reminded of Vonnegut this morning because his 1963 novel Cat's Cradle popped up yesterday on my book-nerd daily tear-off calendar (see image at the top of this post).* And Cat's Cradle was one of the novels I read for Dr. Ravitz that long-ago spring.
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| the edition we read |
Such a wild story about a scientific discovery of a substance called ice-9. The problem with ice-9? If it touches water, it will instantly freeze it--and the source(s) of that water. So ... drop it in the sink and ice-9 will freeze the water supply, the river, the lake, the ocean--all the oceans and water in the world.
In other words, buh-bye, world.
I loved the book and would go on to read all of Vonnegut's work--and even sneaked him into my middle school curriculum for a bit. In one of the lit books we used (1980s), Exploring Literature, his story "The No-Talent Kid" appeared, a story about a high-school boy in the band who has no musical ability--but he desperately wants to be a part of the award-winning marching band. The solution? The director suggests the boy pull the huge bass drum. He's delighted to do so. (Link to full text.)
Other years I would read aloud to my students the Vonnegut story "Harrison Bergeron," about a time in the future when the government has declared that everyone must be equal. No one can be superior in any way. It's both funny and disturbing--like most of Vonnegut's work. (Link to full text of story,)
I was especially thrilled, by the way, when I learned that Vonnegut and I share the month and day of birth (November 11), though he was older, of course--of my father's WW II generation.
Years later--in the 1980s--Vonnegut was making an appearance at Kent State University. My wife and I drove a van load of students from Western Reserve Academy to see him ... but ... by the time we got there, no more seating was available. We had to sit in an adjacent room and hear him only. He was funny and clever and wise. And I was annoyed. So close, so very very close we'd been.
And I didn't even catch a glimpse of him.
*awful news--it seems this calendar will not appear for 2019!
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