Whitworth College Dreams

I'm not much of a dream interpreter and welcome anyone who reads this to offer their insights

I graduated from Whitworth College and then taught there twice, first as an adjunct instructor of composition and then as a full-time instructor on two consecutive one-year contracts.

I loved teaching at Whitworth and until I failed to complete my PhD, I often wished I could return as a professor.

I often have dreams at night about returning to Whitworth. It's a recurrent dream. In it, I'm asked to return again as a one-year full-time instructor and teach a variety of courses. I never dream about students. I dream about my colleagues. In my dream, the professors I taught with back in 1982-84 are still there and I am giddy to be back with them and be a part of the English Department again.

I live near Whitworth in this dream and see myself walking on to campus, often in snow, and enjoying the tall pine trees and aromatic environment. It's beautiful.

But my colleagues are always gone. I arrive at my office in Westminster Hall and Leonard Oakland is gone. So is Laura Bloxham. They still teach there, but I never see them. In the dream, I teach my classes, hold my office hours, but it is as if I am the only member of the department.

It saddens me.

Last night, when I had this dream, it ended with me visiting Gloria Johnson, my dissertation advisor. She lives in a building with several stories. I go up to her residence and greet her and her husband Gerald.

Gloria and I go downstairs and the first floor of this building is a wonderful bookstore, stocked with volumes of books focused on Renaissance studies. It's the area I focused on in graduate school.

Gloria and I sit in a comfortable couple of chairs and she asks me how my work went at Whitworth. I tell her that I had a terrific time teaching, but it was unusual.

I tell her I never saw any of the other professors. I worked a whole school year, I tell her, and never did I see my colleagues. She shakes her head.

Then I wake up. Last night was about the fourth or fifth time I've had this dream.

The dream has a pleasant tone. Whitworth is idyllic. I'm happy with my work in the classroom. But I'm alone. I never see these professors I loved so much.

They are always gone.