For the past several years, I have taught an introductory course on world literature at the university where I am presently employed. The offering has frequently proven to be a disappointment, both to myself and to the students—some in headscarves, some occasionally dressed in fatigues—who register for this seminar in order to satisfy their Humanities requirement:
As far as classes go, it was an almost painless experience.
The instructor is fairly intelligent and enthusiastic about the material but is unreceptive, even intolerant, of anything that is not a poem or a poem in prose form.
Made me question things, including the value of higher learning.
(https://classes.xxxxxxxx.edu/loggedin/evaluation.php?id=16882)
Looking over the feedback last summer, I began to consider a different approach. There would be new assignments, self-assessments, and regularly scheduled office hours this time around, followed by a transitional withdrawal of black gowns through the spring morning mist. And because I know comparatively little of this world, I’ve decided to work my way up from below.