England–Days Seven and Eight

October 31, 2015October 31, 2015 / Katie Winkler / Leave a comment

Large Day of the Dead Statue British Museum-October 2015

Happy Halloween, Everybody!

It’s Halloween, and I made it back late last night. I was hoping to work on my blog while I was waiting in the airport, but I couldn’t connect to the Heathrow WiFi. I’m one of those throwbacks who doesn’t have a smart phone. And that’s my first word of advice for my literary travelers is GET A SMART PHONE and pay for short term international use if you are going to be out of the country. What few problems I had during the trip would have been helped if I had been able to communicate better. I have some serious jet lag today, but I have the weekend to recuperate and have time to catch up with my classes.

The Morton Hotel on Russell Square October 2015

The Morton Hotel from Russell Square
October 2015

My last full day in London was simply marvelous. I had a grand continental breakfast at the hotel–quite a spread. There were all kinds of pastries, including real English muffins, not the kind we eat–they are more of a spongy type of bread– and all kinds of fresh fruit, plus a variety of cold meats and cheeses. I lingered over my coffee and got caught up on some correspondence with family, students and colleagues.

The hotel has a pleasant sitting room, which serves several purposes–reception, general seating, bar and breakfast room, all decorated for Halloween, which originated as the Celtic festival of Samhain. As with Christmas, eventually the pagan traditions blended with the Christian All Hallow’s Eve, the day before All Saints Day. Both pagan and Christian traditions commemorate the changing of seasons and passage from life to death, to be renewed again in the spring, with Easter, another holiday with combined Christian and pagan elements.

The Brits seem to love to celebrate Halloween just as much as we do, and like in the States, Halloween seems to be becoming increasingly popular with adults, with all sorts of announcements about parties at different restaurants, hotels and pubs. In fact, the Morton Hotel is slated to have a Halloween High Tea today.

After breakfast I started off towards the first stop on my agenda–The Sir John Soane Museum. When I wrote my first sample travel project a few years ago on Georgette Heyer and her Regency novel “The Foundling,” I discovered a little gem of a museum in the house of the eccentric Sir John Soane, best known as the architect of the Bank of England, who adored his wife Eliza and was heart-broken after her death, which fits in so well with the spirit of the Regency romances written by Georgette Heyer and, of course, Heyer’s inspiration, Jane Austen.

I was going to take the Underground to the Soane, but once again, the line was shut down temporarily where I needed to go, so I hoofed it, but it felt good to walk and soak in yet another area of London I had not yet explored, so I didn’t mind. I got there early and enjoyed strolling around Lincoln’s Inn Fields, London’s largest public square, across from the museum.

Lincoln’s Inn Fields looking toward the Soane Museum–October 2015
October 2015

Lincoln’s Inn
October 2015

I took pictures there and then walked around some more and found Lincoln’s Inn itself. This incredible building is not what you think of when you hear the word inn. Lincoln’s Inn is the name and location of one of four legal associations that developed in the 13th and 14th Centuries, making this a good place to visit for anyone basing their literary tour on Chaucer. I could imagine the Man of Law from the Canterbury Tales being a member of this association even if the actual Lincoln’s Inn buildings weren’t built until later. Because the buildings were built in the 16th and 17th Centuries, this would also make a great place to visit if studying Shakespeare or Marlowe. The architecture is marvelous.

One of the spires at Lincoln’s Inn
October 2015

Today, Lincoln’s Inn houses the offices of many London barristers (lawyers) and includes an extensive law library. I saw one barrister going to work dressed in the traditional legal garb that British men and women of law have been wearing for centuries, although the dress code is now somewhat relaxed. The man I saw was dressed much like David Tennant in the picture below from the movie The Escape Artist.

When I made my way back to the Soane Museum, there was already a short queue forming as the hallways in the house are narrow and there are only a few people allowed in at a time. But I didn’t wait long. Entrance to the museum is free, but I bought the more detailed guide book to use as a source for my sample itinerary (I’m going to do an update sometime soon).

Sarcophagus of Seti
Sir John Soane Museum
London, October 2015

With the book I was able to just roam around and spend as much time as I wanted in this fascinating place. Soane ran his architectural business from his home, so there was a tiny office and rooms full of architectural artifacts for himself, his clients and students to study. He was also quite a collector and one of the most fascinating things at the museum is a sarcophagus, a huge stone coffin, that once housed the remains of Seti, the father of Ramses the Great.

One of my favorite places in the museum was the picture room. It’s a small room, so I had to wait to make my way in there. Each room has a guide who can answer questions about Soane and the house. The guide in the picture room was particularly helpful. He showed us how Soane built the room with pull out panels to hold more of his art collection in a smaller space, very clever.

My favorite pieces were another series by the British painter William Hogarth, called The Election. I had seen a similar series by Hogarth in the National Gallery, and his paintings do a marvelous job satirizing life in England during the 18th Century, with that mixture of humor and pathos that is my very favorite style of writing, seen here in picture form. The guide described the series as one of the first “graphic novels” and pointed out details of the pictures and explained their historical context–really an early form of the political cartoon.

Soane’s house is the perfect place for anyone who is interested in what England was like during the Georgian age–late 18th to early 19th Centuries. I had no idea when I included the museum in my first sample literary tour itinerary several years ago that I would get to visit the museum one day. It is delightful! Here’s a link to the museum’s website: http://www.soane.org/

The British Museum
October 2015

After leaving the Soane Museum, I made my way to the British Museum, not far at all from my hotel. Although it was not yet noon, I was hungry, so when I passed by The Plough, a typical British pub with a plaque outside remarking how it has been frequented by British writers through the years, I decided to have lunch there. I had another typical British pie, but this one vegetarian–mushroom and onion–washing it down with a lager. It came with chips (French fries) and some tasty veggies. Hit the spot. Now it was on to the museum.

The Plough Restaurant
October 2015

I went to the British Museum, also free admission, on my trip in the summer of 2011, but the place is so huge that it would take many visits just to see the permanent collections. I was greeted by huge skeletons like the one above in the courtyard and a big skull along with a skeleton in the atrium area where the Rosetta Stone is displayed, but I passed quickly by them. I wanted to focus my visit this time on the literary and old European collections, and I’m glad I did. Anybody doing any literary tour about a British author should plan to include the British Museum in the itinerary because it covers all aspects of British history and because so many authors have been influenced by items in the museum.

One of the first rooms I went in includes selections of hundreds and hundreds of old books, including the beautiful editions of Shakespeare seen here.

Old Volumes of Shakespeare’s Work
British Museum, October 2015

Then, in the old European room, I hit the jackpot, finding and photographing many artifacts from the burial ship found unearthed at Sutton Hoo, believed to date back to the time of Beowulf. Most fascinating to me were the helmets, swords and shields.

Helmet and shield found in the burial ship at Sutton Hoo
British Museum, October 2015

Could Beowulf have used a dagger like this?

Celtic Brooches and Sword
British Museum, October 2015

In another room were marvelous examples of Celtic art, including crosses and the large ornamental brooches seen to the right. Anyone doing a project on Dream of the Rood, Beowulf, Lanval or any of the early British works would appreciate these rooms.

I could have spent hours and hours at the British Museum, but I was getting a bit weary and had a big night ahead, so I went back to the hotel, caught up on some more work and took a nap. Good move. Naps, if not too long, can really help travellers get the most out of their visits.

I had some tea and a biscuits (shortbread cookies) in the room and headed out early to get to the Savoy Theatre, next to the famous Savoy Hotel on the Strand, another vibrant section of England that was really hopping that night, even though there was a steady drizzling rain. Londoners and tourists alike have learned to adapt to the rain, which comes and goes frequently. As I passed through Covent Garden on my way to The Strand, I noticed people sitting outside under canopies, seated around these little outdoor fire grates, laughing, talking and ignoring the rain.

Covent Garden at Night

I arrived at my destination early, so I walked up and down the Strand, soaking in the atmosphere (no pun intended, but I did forget my umbrella the one time I needed it). I bought a soda at a little kiosk and headed back to the theater to wait some more, but boy, oh, boy, was it worth the wait.

I’ve seen Gypsy several times, and I was an assistant stage manager for a community theater production of it, so I know the show very well, but this was hands down the best production of it I have ever seen or been a part of, mainly because of Imelda Staunton as Rose, who was simply astounding. Some of the best acting I’ve ever seen and the lady has pipes!

Imelda Staunton as Rose
Savoy Theatre, London, October 2015

The final scenes between Gypsy and Rose were everything they were meant to be and the final number, Rose’s Turn, was the final release of all the pent up anger and resentment of a woman who has spent too long living her life for and through her children, not realizing the damage she was doing to herself and all the ones she loved. It was heartbreaking and triumphant. It was so real. I don’t know how anyone can act like Imelda did that night. Simply amazing! Then, in the final scene, Gypsy comes on stage and Rose breaks down again–finally humbled and remorseful, a broken woman as she leaves the stage, and her daughter’s last gesture, a simple arm over her mother’s stooped shoulders, just said it all.

I was also thrilled to see Peter Davison, who played the role of Herbie, Rose’s friend and would be husband, who loves Rose despite everything but has to leave her in the end. It was a special treat seeing Davison, whom I had a crush on when I was a teenager and loved to watch him play Tristain in the British TV series All Creatures Great and Small. He also was one of the many actors to play Dr. Who (the 5th doctor).

It was a great way to end my last night in London. I didn’t even mind the walk back in the rain and the crowded subway as I made my way to Russell Square. I stopped one last time at the Tesco’s and bought supplies for a midnight snack and some breakfast before going to my room. They were still showing all the Harry Potter movies, so I watched Imelda Staunton again as Dolores Umbrage in the final Potter movie while I had my snack and checked e-mail.

What a great day!

The final day was all about travel.

I left the hotel pretty early after getting all packed up because I also like to arrive early and wait rather than rush and worry about missing my plane. I discovered that because I had an oyster card and had bought an extension to London when I arrived that I didn’t have to pay any more. I also discovered that I had paid a 5 pound deposit that can be returned with any money you do not spend when traveling, if any. If you prefer, you can keep your Oyster card, and it is still good when you return to London. I definitely recommend an Oyster card if you are going to spend any time in London.

English Breakfast at Heathrow before I Boarded the Plane
October 2015

Once I got to the airport, checked in and got to the correct terminal, I had my last meal in England, a traditional English breakfast washed down with an English lager. This time I had the beans but still didn’t try the black pudding. I’m not that English!

The trip was uneventful from then on out. It was a long trip back, but it was totally worth it, and gave me a better understanding of the country, people, history and literature of England, which is important to all Americans because we share a language and England is our mother country, one of our best friends in the world today.

I hope you have enjoyed my blog posts about my trip to London. I have learned so much and am so looking forward to using what I have learned to improve my instruction of not only my British literature courses, but all of my classes.

Cherrio and Mind the Gap!!!!

England–Day Five–Rest

October 27, 2015January 28, 2016 / Katie Winkler / Leave a comment

Taking a day of rest to catch up with some work and change hotels. I just moved next door, but I still had a lot to do. I advise taking a break like this, so you can rest. You will enjoy everything so much more.

I didn’t just rest, though. I graded papers, wrote announcements and, of course, writing this blog. Tomorrow I will resume my adventures, among them, a visit to Hyde Park!

England Trip–Day Three

October 26, 2015 / Katie Winkler / Leave a comment

It’s really late, so I’ll give a short update and write more in the morning. My friend and I were so tired that we slept in late. I went over to the Tesco’s, a little grocery store, to get us some breakfast–super yummy croissants, yogurt and grapes–a god breakfast and cheap. First, though, I enjoyed walking around Russell Square and taking pictures.

After breakfast and a nap, Melissa still wasn’t feeling too well, so I went for another walk and discovered another park and a modern mall. I love walking around the city and exploring. Also on my walk, I saw the neighboorhood where Charles. Dickens lived for awhile and saw a statue of the great British woman writer, Virginia Woolfe.

Later we took the Tube to Leicster Square and had a fabulous meal at Bella Italia. Then we saw The Suffaragette at the Odeon, a cinema known for its premiere. There had been a premiere of the new James Bond film earlier that night.

We ejoyed the film, and because it was filmed mainly in London, it was extra special. Well, tomorrow is the big Hamlet day, and It’s a long play, so I better hit the hay.

England Trip–Day Two

October 24, 2015October 25, 2015 / Katie Winkler / 3 Comments

Because of the change in time, I arrived in London about 11:00 this morning. I met up with my old high school friend and we took the Underground to Russell Square. Our hotel, the Hotel Russell is an old Victorian hotel. It’s gorgeous! My room is small and my view is of back alleys and people’s back yards, but I find it charming.

The lobby of the Hotel Russell, Charing Cross, London

For students working on travel projects going to London, I suggest looking into purchasing an Oyster card. A seven day card gets me unlimited travel on two central zones on the subway, called the Tube by Londoners.

It took a while to get from Heathrow to Russell Square, so we didn’t have but a little while before going to the theatre (British spelling). We were pretty tired, so we decided to take a taxi, which I wouldn’t advise if you are making plans to travel in London. Because the traffic was so snarled and the cabs charge by the minute, it turned into a pretty penny, but we got to the Garrick Theatre with plenty of time to spare.

Found this on trip advisor, but we were sitting near the end of this row!

The Garrick is an old theatre for which The famous Irish actor Kenneth Branagh is now artistic director. The show was two one acts by the important British playwright Terence Rattigan. The first short play starred the great British actress, Zoe Wanamaker in a one woman show called All on Her Own, about a woman who has recently lost her husband. It was some great acting, but the pace was kind of slow for someone with jet lag.

The longer one act was an unexpected pleasure. Also by Rattigan, it was totally different in character. It is a funny farce about theatre. Very funny, and I was thrilled that the play is directed by and starring Branagh. Wanamaker was in that show too. Very funny, brilliantly acted, yet also rather poignant and touching at the end. I absolutely loved it!

The playwright–Terence Rattigan

Took the crowded Tube back to Russell Square and struck up an interesting conversation with some locals who were disgusted by the long queue, which is the British word for line. Other fun differences in language are all around. My favorite is coming out of the Tube, instead of exit signs, we see signs that say, “way out.”

Way out sign at Russell Square

Another thing for London travelers to remember is buy snacks and drinks from one of the little groceries that are all over because it is much cheaper than at the hotel bar and many London hotels don’t have vending machines.

Well, it is late and I didn’t sleep much on the plane, so I am going to hit the hay. I will write more tomorrow.

London Trip — Day One–Departure

October 23, 2015October 23, 2015 / Katie Winkler / Leave a comment

Dear Students,

My blog these next few days is primarily for you. Whether you are one of my British literature students or not, I want you to know that I’m thinking of you. I also am only just an e-mail or a Moodle message away. I will try to answer your questions in a timely manner. I’m hoping that you will find my posts interesting even if you are in my ACA115 online class or you are in one of my seated classes, even though the material doesn’t seem directly related to your class.

For those in my literature classes, I hope this information will be useful as you put together your capstone project–the literary travel project. You will see that it takes a lot to put together a trip, especially one that is dedicated to finding and enjoying particular things related to your particular author or work–of course, Shakespeare is pretty easy, I’ll admit.

So here’s a little run-down of my day:

I woke early because I couldn’t sleep. I was wondering if the luggage I bought would really fit in the overhead compartments or if I would have to check it in–I stewed and stewed over this. When my husband woke up, I told him about my worries, and he simply took out a tape measure to reassure me that it did meet the requirements for a carry on. I’m still going to ask at the check-in counter, though–just to be sure. I already have my boarding pass as I took care of that online from home yesterday.

I double checked some things and then headed to work. On the way there I listened to NPR’s Morning Edition as I usually do, and heard two stories back to back that mentioned London. It always seems that when you start thinking about or studying a certain thing, you are more attuned to hearing about it.

Before my class, I answered student e-mail and graded some of your papers and will grade more at home and on the flight as most airlines allow personal electronic devices to be used gate to gate now (the regulation changed in 2014 for most international flights, but I will ask just in case).

In my class we talked about fallacies in logic as my students prepare to research and write their argumentative research papers. Even in that class my mind turned to England as I used two great scenes from Monty Python and the Holy Grail to illustrate my point–the “She’s a Witch” scene and the “Annoying Peasant” scene. Funny stuff and it always makes the point. We discussed all the egregious false logic in the clips, including non sequitur, hasty generalization, stereotyping, post hoc ergo proctor hoc, ad hominem and others. I always enjoy the “ferreting out fallacies” part of English 111.

After class I ran over to the Patton Auditorium to catch the last few minutes of a terrific talk by Lisa K. Bryant, artistic director at the Flat Rock Playhouse, the State Theater of North Carolina, along with some of the staff at the Playhouse, for the Arida Arts Symposium. It was so wonderful to see a bond beginning to develop between the Playhouse and the College. It has always been there, but I’m glad to see it strengthening. Quite a few drama students were in attendance and had an opportunity to hear what it’s like to make a living in the theater as she has. It was gratifying, also, for the director of our drama department to hear confirmed by professionals in the theater the things that she has been saying to her students all along.

Whew, I’m tired already, and I haven’t even gotten to the airport yet, so I’ll say TTFN (tata for now) and put the final touches on my baggage.

Cherrio,

Katie

Some Weeks Are Good

September 27, 2015September 27, 2015 / Katie Winkler / Leave a comment

I know I whine, but not always. Sometimes things work out. Some weeks are good. Last week was one of those. Classes went well. Real collegiality and collaboration took place. Respect was the watch word. Yes, it was a good week. In celebration, I’m printing the lyrics (rough draft) to one of my favorite songs in my new musical CAMPUS. This song is sung by the three “fairy godteachers.” Enjoy!

The Liberal Arts

Mrs. H (singing)
When I lived in Chicago.

Mrs. Mc and Mr. T.
You lived in Chicago?

Mrs. H
Back when I was a girl.
One thing I used to do

Mrs. Mc and Mr. T
What was it?

Mrs. H
I used to read.

Mr. T
Who would have guessed?

Mrs. H
I mean only read.
You’d think the teachers would agree
That reading was a great activity
But they would roll their eyes and give that look
When they called on me and my nose was in a book.
I read
The Three Musketeers in history.
I think Jane Eyre in PE
In Science it was Pride and Prejudice
Lord of the Rings I read in Math
I even got in trouble for reading
In English class.

Ms. M
Why was that?

Mrs. H.
I’m not sure of the cause
But I think it was
Because I was reading Judy Blume
Instead of Sylvia Plath

Mr. T
But what does this have to do
With signing up kids for class?
How do we make them move
Get up off their tiny…

Mrs. H
I’ll tell you.
And then there came a day
That wonderful, glorious day.

Mr. T
Here we go.

Mrs. H
When I knew
Without doubt
What learning was all about…
It was fifth grade and I was all alone
I had no friends to call my own.
Just only had my books
To keep me company
To keep away the looks
They gave to me.

Then we went to the art museum
The Chicago art museum
And walking down the staircase
I looked up and saw it fill the wall
A painting all in black

Ms. M and Mr. T
All in Black?

Mrs. H
Mainly black.
With a thin line of white running down the middle
And an orange line running down the side.
That was all

Then I walked down that massive stairway
Step by step
Moving closer
Moving nearer
To the truth.

Mr. T.
What truth?

Mrs. H.
There was something
In all the blackness
You couldn’t see it from afar
There was meaning
In the darkness
Shapes and form
And art

Ms. Mc
I love this little story
But I’m not sure what it means

Mr. T
That makes two of us
I just don’t see
What you’re trying to say.

Mrs. H
I’m trying to say
That after that day
I knew what school was all about
Giving me knowledge for my work
But teaching me so much more
Teaching me how to live and
What to live for.
Because you only know what truth is
When you get close enough to see
I learned that’s what the liberal arts
Could give to me.

The Liberal Arts
The Liberal Arts
Because you only know what truth is
When you get close enough to see.

Ms. Mc
Now I know what you mean
I’ve felt it too
I only cared about computing
When I was in school
And Chemistry was okay too
The calculations were somewhat challenging.

Then I went to a symphony with my class
Drug to hear a full orchestra on the lawn
Of an old mansion in downtown Tulsa.

Mr. T
Tulsa?

Ms. Mc
Downtown Tulsa on the lawn
With my 10^th grade class
When I was just fifteen
I sat through some baroque
Didn’t really have a choice
And some other too straight forward
I can’t remember what it was
Then came The Moldau

Mr. T.
The what?

Mrs. H.
Bedrich Smetana’s The Moldau

Mr. T
Right.

Ms. Mc
I’d never heard anything like it before
It was a river
A river flowing through the music
Through my mind
Starting as a stream
Running through the strings
And I heard the poem
The musical poem
With structure and form

So I’m trying to say
That after that day
I knew that school was all about
Giving me knowledge for day to day
But teaching me so much more
Teaching me how to live and
What to live for.

Because you only know what truth is
When you sit still enough to hear
I learned that’s what the liberal arts
Could make so clear.

ALL
The Liberal Arts
The Liberal Arts
Because you only know what truth is
When you sit still enough to hear.

Mr. T
Well, you two can really get on my nerves
I just don’t like people it’s true,
But you’re really all right you two.
I see what you’re trying to say.
Because it happened to me one day.

Mrs H and Ms Mc.
It did?

Mr. T.
It did.
Actually it was one night.

Mrs. H.
Oh, no, not one night.

Mr. T
Well, yes there was a girl
A beautiful girl
With brown eyes and brown hair
Who wore lots of leather
If I remember right
In my acting class.
But she was different than the others
Didn’t want to be a star
She studied and studied
Wanted to be a doctor
But I didn’t care
I just wanted to get with her
Backstage.

Mr. H.
Oh, please.

Mr. T
Well, anyway,
She wanted to go on this field trip
I didn’t really want to go
To the planetarium in Pittsburgh.

Mrs. H.
I didn’t know you lived in Pittsburgh

Mr. T
There’s a lot you don’t know.

So I signed up for the field trip
Flirted with her on the bus.
But she wouldn’t sit next to me
In a darkened room with us
Boys. I guess she was right.
Not to sit next to us boys that night.

So I was bored out of my skull
As the show began to start.
Just about to go to sleep
Until it happened.

Mrs. H and Ms Mc
What happened?

Mr. T.
Out came the stars
In the center of the winter night
They said I could see a hunter.
A hunter I didn’t see
They said two stars mark his shoulders
And two stars mark his knees
Then they outlined his form
Standing with his arms upraised,
A hunter standing strong
I saw Orion.
I saw the Orion Nebula

I’m trying to say
That after that day
I knew what school was all about
Giving me knowledge for my work
But teaching me so much more
Teaching me how to live and
What to live for.

Because you only know what truth is
When someone points you to the light
I learned what liberal arts can do
That fine winter’s night.

ALL
The Liberal Arts
The Liberal Arts
Because you only know what truth is
When someone points you to the light

Mr. T
That’s the day I wanted to teach drama

Ms. Mc
That’s the day I wanted to teach math

Mrs. H
That’s the day I knew I could teach English

All
The day we finally understood
And knew we could

Teach the liberal arts

William Eldridge Dabbs–My Uncle El

July 13, 2015July 14, 2015 / Katie Winkler / Leave a comment

This is the edition that Uncle El gave me. I had to replace it a couple of years ago because I read and re-read it so much. I still have the copy, though.

My Uncle El, my mother’s only sibling, passed away over 25 years ago. He, like the rest of those in my mother’s family, was a teacher–at least for most of his life. He taught Spanish. After his first heart attack, even before really, he, like so many teachers before him, was experiencing some significant burn-out–totally understandable burn-out, but he never lost his teacher heart–his love for books and words and music–his yearning to travel and see new places.

He was a tolerant and patient uncle, up to a point. I think when I was about 10, my brother, sister and I learned just how far we could push him–my younger brother learned later. He was a kid’s dream uncle. He would take us to the movies in whatever cool car he had at the time (the convertible complete with 8-track player was my favorite). I remember one time after seeing Charlton Heston in a Sci Fi movie, riding around Columbus with the top down, hanging out the window and yelling, “Soylent Green is people!” And he let us do that! What a great guy!.

Always single with no family of his own, he was always there when we needed him. He drove mom to the hospital when she went into labor with my brother Rob. He took my sister and I to horse shows–staying with us in the heat of an Alabama summer day and late into the night. He accompanied our family across the country when my dad came home from Vietnam, and we wanted to meet Dad in California. He took us out for pizza and steak, ice cream ahd his favorite, Chinese food. He bought us fireworks (legal in Alabama at the time), something that Mom would not have done for sure. He would let us play while he stayed inside and read his books. He was always reading a book.

To satisfy his love of books on a public school teacher’s pay, he often frequented the big used book store in Columbus, Georgia and another one in Montgomery, Alabama–Auburn was still just a little college town and didn’t have too many places to shop in the 60s and 70s. He would go on these book trips and get dozens and dozens of books. He was very proud of them and kept them all in order. He would get detective novels, historical fiction, thrillers, and even romances. He never said that he got the romances for me, in fact, I often saw him reading them himself, but he always made it a point to show me the romances that he bought, and I felt that they were for me.

After one of these shopping trips, he showed me a box full of one particular romance author–Georgette Heyer, his favorite Regency romance writer. I had not started reading Jane Austen yet. She was still a bit difficult for me, so he told me that Heyer was a 20th Century author who wrote about the early 19th Century in England, just like Austen, but that Heyer would probably be easier for me to read. He had at least a dozen of her books in the box, and he challenged me to read them that summer. I took up the gauntlet and after the first book I was hooked! Heyer wrote with such wit–her characters were funny, heroic and honorable–just like Austen. Heyer’s heroines were not always the most beautiful or even the most clever, but they had courage and resilience, and I so wanted to be like them.

Uncle El made it a point to collect all of the Georgette Heyer Regency romances and mysteries. He would read them too, and we would talk about the wonderful characters and the funniest passages. Reading Georgette Heyer, and soon afterwards, Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters, Anthony Trollope, Charles Dickens, Elizabeth Gaskell and others, I became a true Anglophile and have remained one ever since, now teaching British literature, specializing in 19th Century British literature.

I don’t think my uncle was looking for a teachable moment when he introduced me to Georgette Heyer–he just shared his love of books with me, but his interest in me and in my literary education has had a profound and lasting impact on my life. He was a great teacher, a great man, and I miss him.

* * *

If you like witty, charming romantic novels, give Georgette Heyer a try. Here are a few of my favorites:

The Foundling
Friday’s Child
Cotillion
The Quiet Gentleman
The Unknown Ajax

Throw Back Sunday

May 17, 2015 / Katie Winkler / Leave a comment

My Work Home

I used to write a BRCC column a couple of times a month for the Hendersonville Times-News. Here’s one of those columns, from back in 2003:

A series of events the past few weeks has caused an identity crisis in me, forcing me to ask that question teachers often find themselves asking. “What exactly do we have to offer—what is our role?

Should we be entertainers? After all, it is difficult to keep students engaged, especially when many have grown up passively viewing a television screen or matching wits with an exciting computer-generated opponent. Sometimes we try to “jazz things up,” yet no matter how witty our illustrations or detailed our demonstrations, despite our high tech visual aids, we teachers can’t match the special effects of Star Wars or Lord of the Rings.

Of course, teachers should make attempts to prompt student responses through group discussion and student comments, but in the end it is the teacher who has the responsibility to bring student discussions to the sticking point, to summarize key points of any discussion. I know it’s become a dirty word in some circles, but sometimes we even need to lecture. For many students, that’s not entertainment.

If it is not a teacher’s role to be an entertainer or merely a facilitator, is it to be an encourager? Everyone needs praise. Good teachers know this and try to find real reasons for praise. One word of encouragement from an admired and respected instructor can fuel some students for an entire semester. Sometimes praise can even change a student’s life; however, constructive criticism has also been known to be the making of a person.

Teachers sometimes see themselves as physicians, highly trained professionals who diagnose problems and offer cures. But others sometimes see us as nothing more than dispensers of grades—recorders. I do the work; you write my A in the grade book and raise my self-esteem.

Are we here to make students feel better about themselves? Are we counselors? As a writing teacher, I sometimes find it difficult to even constructively criticize a student’s work if I’m aware of his or her difficult circumstances. I ask myself, what if he or she takes my criticism personally. Could my words so sting that the student becomes so angry or discouraged that he or she drops my class or quits school?

In the end, good teachers know avoiding the errors in student performance, no matter what the students’ difficulties, can only block their ability to learn. Our job is to assess students and inform them of their problem areas, not to assure them, “Everything is okay.”

At the beginning of the semester in my freshman composition classes, I relate to students my educational philosophy by describing a scene from the movie All That Jazz, based on the life of Bob Fosse, the late choreographer and Broadway director of Chicago. The Fosse-like character becomes frustrated with a beautiful young dancer who gets her job more for her sexual appeal than her dancing ability. When the young woman breaks down in tears, the choreographer stops the music and goes to the girl, saying something like this: “I can’t promise you I’ll make you a great dancer. I can’t even promise I can make you a good dancer. But if you work real hard and listen to what I say, I’ll make you a better dancer.”

Like the choreographer, we can’t make many promises. We can’t say for sure that our students will be stimulated or get A’s or even pass. But we can make the promise that if they will listen, even if the delivery is not of their liking, even if the grade is not what they expect, they will learn.

Reminded then of our promise, our role becomes clear. I know what it is we have to give. It’s not entertainment, not unreserved praise; it’s not a shoulder to cry on. The only thing we can offer our students is what we know—about our disciplines, about learning, about life.

The rest is up to them.

The Quality of Mercy

May 6, 2015May 6, 2015 / Katie Winkler / Leave a comment

Maggie Smith, one of my favorite actors, as Portia 
in Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice--
the BBC's 1972 version of the play

The quality of mercy is not strain’d,

It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven

Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest;

It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:

But mercy is above this sceptred sway;

It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,

It is an attribute to God himself;

And earthly power doth then show likest God’s

When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, …

Though justice be thy plea, consider this,

That, in the course of justice, none of us

Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;

And that same prayer doth teach us all to render

The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much

To mitigate the justice of thy plea;

Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice

Must needs give sentence ‘gainst the merchant there.

— The Merchant of Venice, Act 4, Scene 1

I am so much like Shylock. I believe strongly in justice. Just like Shylock, I don’t just seek justice, I demand it. But unlike him, I hope, in dealings with my students anyway, I see the wisdom of Portia, one of my favorite of Shakespeare’s female characters, and I know that it would have served Shylock well to heed Portia’s words and render mercy. And indeed, many times when a student asks for mercy, and I choose to give it, we are indeed both blessed. The student gets a chance to rectify whatever problem there is–attendance, poor performance in class, misbehavior in class, whatever it may be, and I get the satisfaction of helping a student succeed and truly learn something valuable.

Sometimes, however, that mercy is given, the student takes it, and then uses my act of mercy against me. This just doesn’t happen to teachers, of course, but I find that the teaching profession seems particular vulnerable to the ungrateful. I get so disheartened when this happens that I want to make a list of strict rules and never show any mercy whatsoever. Sometimes I think my colleagues and supervisors would be happier if my mercy were a bit less freely given. Now, I do have rules and high standards, but I temper them with mercy if I see that I can help the student. I just have to, you see, because of the mercy shown to me.

I remember when I was a senior in undergrad school. I was struggling, like a lot of my own students, with who I was and where I was going next. I was pretty smart and had a way with words, but I was so caught up in my life –meeting people and learning a new language and becoming a woman and discovering hidden talents, like acting and persuasive speaking, that I had, frankly, lost interest in my English studies.

I procrastinated with my paper and put it off and off that last semester of my first senior year that when I finally started working on it in earnest, I realized that it would be impossible for me to finish. I had to ask for an extension. I was truly scared when I walked into my professor’s office. He was intimidating because he was so brilliant as well as being the head of the English department. I didn’t think he even really knew my name. I was standing there and couldn’t speak. He finally looked up and said something, I can’t really remember, and I blurted it all out. Not all of “it” was absolutely true either, but he had mercy. He gave me the extension I requested without hesitation. Then he did something I never expected–He pointed to the chair and said, “Now sit down and tell me what’s really bothering you.”

I finished the paper that first semester of my 2nd senior year. I never had worked so hard on anything in my life. 35 pages comparing the works of Flannery O’Connor and Franz Kafka–two displaced people who didn’t fit in anywhere, so they became writers or maybe they were writers and that’s why they didn’t fit in. I still don’t know. Anyway, I could say I finally found my way while I was writing that paper, and it would be a lie. I could say I stopped procrastinating and learned my lesson; that too would be untrue. No, I worked that hard out of gratitude to the professor who showed me mercy. His mercy, freely given, was twice blessed.

So I lean towards mercy when I think that mercy is going to be best for the student, when the student has a chance of making real change in his or her life. However, the quality of mercy is not strained (or forced). If the mercy is to be at all, then it must come freely given from the person granting that gift. For example, Portia is a wise judge. She knows she cannot legally force Shylock to have mercy because then that mercy would simply be a violation of justice. True mercy requires true justice. So she appeals to Shylock’s sense of justice when she appeals to his mercy. But he doesn’t want justice. He wants revenge.

As we see later in the play, Shylock made a grave mistake not granting mercy–it led to his bankruptcy and loss of his only child–making the play a tragedy more than a comedy in my mind, so great is Shylock’s loss. But Shylock’s fall is inevitable because Shylock is so full of anger, justifiably so perhaps considering the anti-semitic society in which he lives, that he can not show mercy because mercy must be freely given.

Therefore, even if a student takes my merciful action and uses it against me, it is still a gift freely given in an attempt to help that student. If now that student is demanding mercy, I can not give it because it is not freely given and would corrupt justice.

However, if I truly believe that I am standing my ground for the sake of the student as well as the integrity of my profession, then I am blessed no matter how the student misuses my gift. If no one ever acknowledges that I did the right thing and some people rally against me because of my stand, I will still be blessed because I didn’t allow others to pervert my deep sense of justice.

I will continue to seek justice by upholding established policies and procedures, to fight for what is right, and I will continue to show mercy. Not because it is in my nature–it is not; not because my faith demands it–it does not. I show mercy out of gratitude–gratitude to the one whose unmerited favor has given me such a wonderful, abundant life.

Ronda J. Dalenberg: Sister Teacher

April 11, 2015April 11, 2015 / Katie Winkler / 2 Comments

My sister Ronda during her last summer trip with our extended family
Gulf of Mexico--August 2009

Four years ago my only sister died. She was my age now, 54, and for some reason, that makes this anniversary of her death especially painful for me. Until she had to retire early because of her illnesses, she worked for the federal government, Rural Housing, making low-interest loans so poor people could have a decent place to live. One day when I was visiting Alabama where she lived and worked, she drove me around to show some of the houses she helped build. She stopped in front of one that she was particularly proud of. It was a cute little brick home, but not just a little box like so many government houses I had seen. It had a large arched window in the front, white accents and other interesting features. She told me that the contractors she was working with now had found ways to make the houses unique but still keep the price low. “It doesn’t cost much to make a big difference in people’s lives,” she said.

Ronda loved science when she was in school and thought about being a veterinarian when she first started attending Auburn University, but she ended up getting her degree in Animal and Dairy Sciences. She thought when she was in school that she would end up managing some sort of barn or farm. She loved horses and dogs, especially, but no, she ended up working for the government making loans. When she first started working for the government, her department was called Farmers Home Administration. She needed to know about the economics of farming to assess lands, equipment and livestock when making loans, but things began to change and her main work at the end of her career was making home loans.

Ronda never seriously considered a teaching career. I remember that she tried to do some substituting at one time in her life and had a really bad time one day. She shook her head and said to me, “Why would you ever want to be a teacher?” Then we laughed at all the horrible things those little hellions did to her that day in the way people sometimes do when the bad times are over. I didn’t say anything to her then, but when I think about it now, I realize that my sister was one of the best teachers I ever had.

Ronda was the oldest and we used to tease her about how bossy she was. We compared her to Lucy in the Peanuts comic strip. She reveled in this comparison, holding her hand up to one of my brothers, saying, “I’ll give you five good reasons to quit that.” Then, one by one counting and curling her fingers to create a fist, just like Lucy famously did over and over in the Sunday funnies. She didn’t stop her bossiness when we became adults either. It used to infuriate me that she would dare to have an opinion about education and/or teaching when I was the professional educator, by golly! How could she tell me anything about education?

Things changed over time, of course. As I matured, enduring many successes and even more failures, I gained some of the humility that most acquire with time. There is one time in particular that Ronda made a comment about my teaching that ultimately changed my attitude about my career, even though at the time the comment stung like one of my Great Aunt Jane’s peach tree switches.

I was visiting my parents’ home where my sister was living. Her husband Donald is a truck driver, so he was gone a lot and her health was getting to the point that she didn’t want to live alone. As I often did, unfortunately, I was regaling the family about all my troublesome students, how they didn’t listen to directions and didn’t seem to care and how some were bilking the tax payers, just going to school to get a government check and on and on, ad nauseum. Ronda listened a long time and when I finally took a breath, she said, “You don’t sound like you like your students very much.”

I don’t remember what I said or did after that but I do remember that at first I was so angry at her. “How dare she?” “Doesn’t she know I was just blowing off steam?” But I couldn’t shake the feeling that my sister was right. It was then I knew I needed to go back to the reason I became a teacher in the first place–to help people be productive and find happiness in a job well-done–to help them lead better lives because of what they learned in my classes. How could I teach them effectively if I didn’t even like them? How could I care?

After that, I went back to teaching with a renewed sense of my students’ intrinsic worth. I began to look for the things I liked about my students–their humor, their love of life, their eagerness, their youthful spirits, their drive. I even found myself being somewhat amused, or at the least not angered, by their student-like failings–their procrastination and arrogance and rebellion. I know I’m a better teacher now because I decided that liking my students, enjoying them, makes me a better teacher.

I don’t know if Ronda ever knew in this life time what her simple observation did for me, but it is only one example of the way my sister has taught me to be a better teacher–and a better person. I think of her and I miss her all the time, but here on this fourth anniversary, the intense pain of her horrible death has been replaced with the joy of her life and what it meant to me and all those who have been blessed to have known her as wife, daughter, sister, cousin, friend, colleague, mentor and teacher.

Hey, Mrs. Winkler!

Musings and Mutterings About Higher Education in the South

My History