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AnotherSchoolYear—WhatFor?

JohnCiardi

Letmetellyouoneoftheearliestdisastersinmycareerasateacher.ItwasJanuaryof1940andIwasfreshoutofgraduateschoolstartingmyfirstsemesterattheUniversityofKansasCity.Partofthestudentbodywasabeanpolewithhairontopwhocameintomyclass,satdown,foldedhisarms,andlookedatmeasiftosay"Allright,teachmesomething."TwoweekslaterwestartedHamlet.Threeweekslaterhecameintomyofficewithhishandsonhiships."Look,"hesaid,"Icameheretobeapharmacist.WhydoIhavetoreadthisstuff?

"Andnothavingabookofhisowntopointto,hepointedtominewhichwaslyingonthedesk.

NewasIwastothefaculty,Icouldhavetoldthisspecimenanumberofthings.Icouldhavepointedoutthathehadenrolled,notinadrugstore-mechanicsschool,butinacollegeandthatattheendofhiscoursemeanttoreachforascrollthatreadBachelorofScience.Itwouldnotread:

QualifiedPill-GrindingTechnician.Itwouldcertifythathehadspecializedinpharmacy,butitwouldfurthercertifythathehadbeenexposedtosomeoftheideasmankindhasgeneratedwithinitshistory.Thatistosay,hehadnotenteredatechnicaltrainingschoolbutauniversityandinuniversitiesstudentsenrollforbothtrainingandeducation.

Icouldhavetoldhimallthis,butitwasfairlyobvioushewasn'tgoingtobearoundlongenoughforittomatter.

Nevertheless,IwasyoungandIhadahighsenseofdutyandItriedtoputitthisway:

"Fortherestofyourlife,"Isaid,"yourdaysaregoingtoaverageouttoabouttwenty-fourhours.Theywillbealittleshorterwhenyouareinlove,andalittlelongerwhenyouareoutoflove,buttheaveragewilltendtohold.Foreightofthesehours,moreorless,youwillbeasleep."

"Thenforabouteighthoursofeachworkingdayyouwill,Ihope,beusefullyemployed.Assumeyouhavegonethroughpharmacyschool—orengineering,orlawschool,orwhatever—duringthoseeighthoursyouwillbeusingyourprofessionalskills.Youwillseetoitthatthecyanidestaysoutoftheaspirin,thatthebulldoesn'tjumpthefence,orthatyourclientdoesn'tgototheelectricchairasaresultofyourincompetence.Theseareallusefulpursuits.Theyinvolveskillseverymanmustrespect,andtheycanallbringyoubasicsatisfactions.Alongwitheverythingelse,theywillprobablybewhatputsfoodonyourtable,supportsyourwife,andrearsyourchildren.Theywillbeyourincome,andmayitalwayssuffice."

"Buthavingfinishedtheday'swork,whatdoyoudowiththoseothereighthours?

Let'ssayyougohometoyourfamily.Whatsortoffamilyareyouraising?

Willthechildreneverbeexposedtoareasonablypenetratingideaathome?

Willyoubepresidingoverafamilythatmaintainssomecontactwiththegreatdemocraticintellect?

Willtherebeabookinthehouse?

Willtherebeapaintingareasonablysensitivemancanlookatwithoutshuddering?

WillthekidsevergettohearBach?

"

ThatisaboutwhatIsaid,butthisparticularpestwasnotinterested."Look,"hesaid,"youprofessorsraiseyourkidsyourway;I'lltakecareofmyown.Me,I'mouttomakemoney."

"Ihopeyoumakealotofit,"Itoldhim,"becauseyou'regoingtobebadlystuckforsomethingtodowhenyou'renotsigningchecks."

FourteenyearslaterIamstillteaching,andIamheretotellyouthatthebusinessofthecollegeisnotonlytotrainyou,buttoputyouintouchwithwhatthebesthumanmindshavethought.IfyouhavenotimeforShakespeare,forabasiclookatphilosophy,forthecontinuityofthefinearts,forthatlessonofman'sdevelopmentwecallhistory—thenyouhavenobusinessbeingincollege.Youareonyourwaytobeingthatnewspeciesofmechanizedsavage,thepush-buttonNeanderthal.Ourcollegesinevitablygraduateanumberofsuchlifeforms,butitcannotbesaidthattheywenttocollege;ratherthecollegewentthroughthem—withoutmakingcontact.

Noonegetstobeahumanbeingunaided.Thereisnottimeenoughinasinglelifetimetoinventforoneselfeverythingoneneedstoknowinordertobeacivilizedhuman.

Assume,forexample,thatyouwanttobeaphysicist.Youpassthegreatstonehallsof,say,M.I.T.,andtherecutintothestonearethenamesofthescientists.Thechancesarethatfew,ifany,ofyouwillleaveyournamestobecutintothosestones.Yetanyofyouwhomanagedtostayawakethroughpartofahighschoolcourseinphysics,knowsmoreaboutphysicsthandidmanyofthosegreatscholarsofthepast.Youknowmorebecausetheyleftyouwhattheyknew,becauseyoucanstartfromwhatthepastlearnedforyou.

Andasthisistrueofthetechniquesofmankind,soitistrueofmankind'sspiritualresources.Mostoftheseresources,bothtechnicalandspiritual,arestoredinbooks.Booksareman'speculiaraccomplishment.Whenyouhavereadabook,youhaveaddedtoyourhumanexperience.ReadHomerandyourmindincludesapieceofHomer'smind.ThroughbooksyoucanacquireatleastfragmentsofthemindandexperienceofVirgil,Dante,Shakespeare—thelistisendless.Foragreatbookisnecessarilyagift;itoffersyoualifeyouhavenotthetimetoliveyourself,andittakesyouintoaworldyouhavenotthetimetotravelinliteraltime.Acivilizedmindis,inessence,onethatcontainsmanysuchlivesandmanysuchworlds.Ifyouaretoomuchinahurry,ortooarrogantlyproudofyourownlimitations,toacceptasagifttoyourhumanitysomepiecesofthemindsofAristotle,orChaucer,orEinstein,youareneitheradevelopedhumannorausefulcitizenofademocracy.

IthinkitwasLaRochefoucauldwhosaidthatmostpeoplewouldneverfallinloveiftheyhadn'treadaboutit.Hemighthavesaidthatnoonewouldevermanagetobecomehumaniftheyhadn'treadaboutit.

Ispeak,I'msure,forthefacultyoftheliberalartscollegeandforthefacultiesofthespecializedschoolsaswell,whenIsaythatauniversityhasnorealexistenceandnorealpurposeexceptasitsucceedsinputtingyouintouch,bothasspecialistsandashumans,withthosehumanmindsyourhumanmindneedstoinclude.Thefaculty,byitsveryexistence,saysimplicitly:

"Wehavebeenaidedbymanypeople,andbymanybooks,inourattempttomakeourselvessomesortofstorehouseofhumanexperience.Weareheretomakeavailabletoyou,asbestwecan,thatexpertise."

2

MaheegunMyBrother

EricAcland

TheyearIfoundMaheegun,springwaslateincoming.Thatday,IwasspearingfishwithmygrandfatherwhenIheardthefaintcryingandfoundtheshiveringwolfcub.

AsIbentdown,hemovedweaklytowardme.Ipickedhimupandputhiminsidemyjacket.LittleMaheegungainedstrengthafterIgotthefirstfewdropsofwarmmilkinhim.Hewiggledandsoonhewasfullandwarm.

Mygrandfatherfinallyagreedtoletmekeephim.

Thatyear,whichwasmy14th,wasthehappiestofmylife.

Notthatwedidn'thaveourtroubles.Maheegunwasthemostmischievouswolfcubever.Hewascurioustoo.LikelookingintoGrandma'ssewingbasket—whichheupset,scatteringthreadandbuttonsalloverthefloor.Atsuchtimes,shewouldchasehimoutwithabroomandMaheegunwouldpokehisheadaroundthecorner,waitingforthingstoquietdown.

ThatsummerMaheegunandIbecamehuntingpartners.Wehuntedthegrasshoppersthatleapedaboutlikelittlerockets.Andinthefall,afterthefirstsnowourgamestookustothenearestmeadowsinsearchoffieldmice.Bythen,Maheegunwashalfgrown.Gonewasthepuppy-woolcoat.Initsplacewasahandsomeblackmantle.

ThewintermonthsthatcamesoonafterwerethehappiestIcouldremember.TheybelongedonlytoMaheegunandmyself.Oftenwewouldmakeafireinthebushes.Maheegunwouldlayhisheadbetweenhisfrontpaws,withhiseyesonmeasItoldhimstories.

ItallservedtofogmymindwithpleasuresothatIforgotmyGrandpa'srepeatedwarnings,andonenightleftMaheegununchained.ThefollowingmorninginsailedMrs.Yesno,wildwithanger,whodemandedMaheegunbeshotbecausehehadkilledherrooster.Thenextmorning,mygrandpaannouncedthatweweregoingtotakeMaheeguntothenorthshack.

Bythetimewereachedthelakewherethetrapper'sshackstood,Maheegunseemedtohavebecomerestless.Oftenhewouldsitwithhisnosetothesky,turninghisheadthiswayandthatasiftocheckthewind.

Thewarmthofthestovesoonbroughtsleeptome.Butsomethingcausedmetowakeupwithastart.Isatup,andinthemoon-floodedcabinwasmygrandfatherstandingbesideme."Comeandsee,son,"whisperedmygrandfather.

Outsidethemoonwasfullandtheworldlookedallwhitewithsnow.Hepointedtoarockthatstoodhighattheedgeofthelake.Onthetopwastheclearoutlineofagreatwolfsittingstill,earspointed,alert,listening.

"Maheegun,"whisperedmygrandfather.

Slowlythewolfraisedhismuzzle."Oooo-oo-wow-wowoo-oooo!

"

Thewholewhiteworldthrilledtothatwildcry.Thenafterawhile,fromthedistancecameasoftercallinreply.Maheegunstirred,withthedeeprumbleofpleasureinhisthroat.Heslippeddowntherockandheadedoutacrosstheice.

"He'sgone,"Isaid.

"Yes,he'sgonetothatyoungshe-wolf."Mygrandfatherslowlyfilledhispipe."Hewilltakeherforlife,huntforher,protecther.ThisisthewaytheCreatorplannedlife.Nomancanchangeit."

Itriedtotellmyselfitwasallforthebest,butitwashardtolosemybrother.

ForthenexttwoyearsIwasasbusyasasquirrelstoringnutsforthewinter.ButonceortwicewhenIheardwolfcriesfromdistanthills,IwouldstillwonderifMaheegun,inhisbattleforlife,foundtimetorememberme.

ItwasnotlongafterthatIfoundthea