Center for Teaching and Learning

Faculty Interview
David Norris
English

Hear the audio clip on life experiences that led to gaining confidence for college and life. (2:52)

Dave's latest story is on the Web at http://usads.ms11.net/stories.html.

For two years, I taught onboard US Navy ships deployed to the Pacific and Indian Oceans. I had never taught in the military setting nor traveled in Asia at that time. The four ships that I rode took me all over Asia and into the Gulf of Oman. Teaching in the military community continues to be the most rewarding teaching that I have done. I remember standing in the parking lot in front of the library at Yongsan Base, Seoul, Korea, on a cold January day in 1987. I did a 360 and took in the view of where I was and thought about what I was doing with my life. I made a wish. My dream was to live in Seoul and teach for UMUC Asia. That dream came true the following spring. “It's funny how that stuff works,” an old mountain man once told me. His words still ring true in my ears.

Well, I spend a lot of my time outside of the classroom reading the essays that have been turned into it. That is the plight of all writing instructors. Recently, I served as one of the two judges for the annual “Life in Korea ” essay contest sponsored by the Association of the United States Army. I have done this for the past nine years. Also this year, I was asked and agreed to be the judge for both the essay contest for adult submissions as well as the poetry contest for the same age group at the Yongsan Base Library here in Korea. In my free time, I travel when I can, and read and write.

There are so many. This is the richest teaching environment that one can imagine. My students range in age from 18 to their 60s. They come from all over the world and from every segment of American society. My gift has always been in helping the non-traditional students who have difficulty in moving from their pre-college days into the college classroom and feeling comfortable and confident there. I had to make this difficult transition myself when I started out, and this helps me to empathize and recognize the places where holes need to be filled and fear removed. I keep a folder in my files that I go to on days when I feel a bit down. It's called “Kind Words on My Teaching.” Here is a quote from that file: “I don't think I even dared to dream this big when I first stepped into your classroom. . .” This student made an A and is now in graduate school and doing quite well.

Here is another story.

I remember one young man who walked into my class many years ago when I first started teaching. English had always kicked him, had always beaten him. I gave him the California Achievement Test, and he scored seventh-grade, second month. Three weeks later, he took CAT test number two, and he scored 12th grade, ninth-month, high school graduate. He stood there with a look of disbelief on his face when I showed him his results. Then he broke out in a great big smile. He had to look at the score as it had been recorded to believe it. Then he stuck his hand out, shook mine and thanked me.

He walked to the door, turned around and asked, "Did I really do a 12-9?"

He walked back. "Did I really do it?"

I said, "Yes."

He shook my hand and thanked me again. Then he walked to the door, turned around, and did it a third time.

I have a tape of Theodore Roethke reading his poems. In the intro to one of them, he says that he truly believes that the real teaching starts when the teacher is willing to learn from the students. I never walk into the classroom thinking that I am the smartest person in the room; I am always willing to learn from my students as well as share what I know.

This is a fun question, and it takes me all the way back to when I was 18 and coming straight out of high school with a disastrous academic history. I had taken no college prep courses and had left every day at noon to go to work under the Distributive Education program. Thus, I spent my first year of study at the local community college playing catch-up. Dr. Mary Balaz was my first mentor. She is the one who encouraged me to write and even helped me to find a part-time job in the college library. Machel Biggs, my math teacher, taught me compassion. Jim Barnes, my government teacher, taught me to always have time for my students. Clydie Hefner taught me what not to do. Later in graduate school, Dr. Michael Linn taught me humility and the importance of remaining honest in the classroom, of putting on no airs. Dr. Mary Bevin taught me to take chances and to be creative, to try something new if something old was not working. At a poetry reading in San Francisco, Robert Bly taught me that in reading poetry, one does not have to treat it as a sacred text, that we can have fun in sharing verse. He stopped in the middle of a poem and said, “I like that line, I'm going to read it again.” I've stolen that little trick and incorporated it into my own performance of reading poetry in class and sometimes on stage.

Irony accompanies us in this life. My mother was the first person in our family to complete high school. She always insisted that I should be a teacher. I told her, “No money in that.” Thus, I decided to major in business for my first undergraduate degree. I preformed well in this academic discipline, even becoming an Alfred E. Lyon Scholar in Marketing. But my heart was not in it, and when I applied for several management training positions, I was given the Strong Interest Inventory Analysis. Jobs that I was certain that I would be offered had not come about on three separate occasions. At that point, I decided that I wanted to know what the “test-givers” knew about me that I did not know about myself, so I made arrangements to take the test. When I received my results, I realized that I would not have hired me either. My top four job-compatibility ratings were musician, writer, photographer and English teacher. Within a week, I had bought a camera, a set of drums and made the first steps to return to college as an English major. Momma was right. Her little boy was destined to become a teacher. It is the wisest decision I have made.

I have attended every workshop to which I have been invited, which has been helpful in all cases. I take online workshops, and recently I completed a seminar on Web-enhancement that was much like the Libs 150 format, one day in the classroom for 8 hours followed by two weeks of work to be completed online. Also, I trade ideas with other faculty by email.

I love the written word and sharing insight as to how to best find the aesthetic joy that lies within. The beauty of multiple layers of creation is a learned aesthetic. As soon as they catch on, my students always show me things that I have not seen before, even though I may have taught the course many, many times. Those epiphanies are priceless.