The Barn

I've been on campus each Tuesday and Thursday this summer to teach one class, and it turns out that this is just the right amount of time for me to be on campus working and still on "break."

While I was at the college yesterday, a student from my Spring 2012 creative writing class stopped by to pick up her journal (they'd worked on them all semester long and turned them in the last day of class). Well, this student was a favorite of mine (but as teachers, like parents, we never pick official favorites, so forget that you read that, and just never you mind...) and she was an excellent student all around. In addition to being a dedicated and talented writer, she is also an artist, and during the semester, unbeknownst to me, she was working on a painting inspired by our class.

One day last semester for an in-class writing activity, I adapted an exercise from our book and asked the students to describe a barn using the third person point of view of a man who had just lost his son, a soldier, to combat. But the description couldn't mention the son, it couldn't mention death, and it couldn't mention war. It was an exercise in setting and atmosphere, and the passages turned out quite well. But this particular student was so inspired that she decided to paint a barn during her campus studio time. And yesterday, she gave it to me as a present.

It's small--only about six inches squared--but I think it's marvelous.

I have, occasionally, gotten gifts from students at the end of a semester, usually gift cards that are in low denominations, very thoughtful, and always appreciated (who'd scoff at a free latte from Starbucks? No teacher ever, that's who). But I've never had a student spend such time and effort to produce something that is so lovely and so connected to our class. And although this is the barn seen through the eyes of a grieving father, I see no death or war in it. I see life, work, family, and tradition.

I kind of love my job.