1. Friendly ghosts kept visiting me today.
I have no way of knowing, with a few exceptions, if these friendly ghosts were phantoms of the living or the dead, but they had one thing in common: they were students in classes I taught at Lane Community College, starting in 1989.
I welcomed their visits today. They took me back to memories I cherish.
I had been a community/junior college student at NIC from 1972-74 and those two years, especially thanks to superb, generous, and very supportive instructors and academically motivated classmates, changed the direction of my life.
I suddenly realized, in late summer of 1989, when the LCC English department hired me part-time, that I could begin to extend to the students in my classes the kind kind of generosity, knowledge, understanding, and support the NIC faculty I worked with extended to me.
I worked at LCC for twenty-five years. That entire time I continued to draw upon the influence of my experience at a two-year school (as well as my experiences at Whitworth and the U of Oregon). At NIC, I especially enjoyed being in class with students older than I was -- many were military and Vietnam veterans, others were making changes in their lives, others had come to see the value of going to school later in life.
Now, starting in 1989, I got to work with these older students as an instructor, got to do what I could to help these older students and the fresh out of high school students work together, learn from each other, come to appreciate each other.
These friendly ghosts visited, but didn't speak to me today.
They appeared to me looking not like they did as many as thirty-five years ago, but came to remind me that they had aged, that while some of their faces might be frozen in my mind as what they looked like decades ago, those eighteen to twenty year olds were in their fifties now, some of the older students were, just like me, seventy years of age and older (one former student, Jane King, just turned 101), and I marveled at how many years had passed and wished I could remember all of the students I'd worked with.
I recall vividly what we studied together, what kind of writing I assigned.
But I was working with anywhere from forty-eight to a hundred and seven students per quarter.
I can't remember them all, but I sure enjoyed the visitations of the ones who floated into my memory and visited my consciousness today.
(On the mournful side, these ghosts also moved my mind to think about the fact that so many of the instructors on the English department staff that I worked with starting in 1989 have died -- and I felt once again the appreciation and warm feelings I had for them, along with my past students.)
2. Whoa! I look back at what I just wrote about ghosts and I left out a lot. I could write almost daily in this blog about the uplifting memories I have daily of the many people, still living and dead, I loved working with at Lane Community College and all of the students, too, from 1989-2014.
So why today? Why so many friendly ghosts, so many memories and loving feelings today of so many LCC staff, fellow faculty, and students?
I don't really know.
But, these intense experiences today could have been inspired by the book I'm reading.
Esi Edugyan's Washington Black is the story of a slave in Barbados who comes under the care, as his assistant, of a scientist and abolitionist who takes Washington Black off the island of Barbados, away from the sugar cane plantation.
An adventure and coming of age story ensues, narrated by Washington Black as an adult looking back on these adventures and on his passage from youth into adulthood.
It's a coming of age story.
I'm about half way finished with Washington Black.
I don't know yet how these adventures will conclude.
But, I do know that what I call ghosts (the book doesn't) from Barbados continue to visit Washington Black, especially the ghost of a slave named Big Kit -- she was still alive when Washington Black escaped Barbados.
I wonder if reading a novel about a grown character looking back, of having figures from his past visit him through memory, also spurred my mind to invite or -- I'm thinking of the surprise ghosts -- to accept the many friendly ghosts who popped into Kellogg today.
3. Yes. This was a largely metaphysical day.
But, I cannot live on ghosts and memories and feelings alone.
I have physical needs, too.
Today Debbie told me she'd take care of dinner and early in the day she made a comforting, thick, delicious, warming cheeseburger soup and we dipped into it all through the day.
It was a source of great pleasure and sustenance -- and kept me grounded in the physical world, a world I frequently seem to depart from as I read, entertain ghosts, negotiate with memories, and commune with the world of spirits, both divine and of the human and animal sort.
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