It has been a whole week since I wrote my last blog entry. When I started to write this blog, we found out
that our daughter was heading to the hospital. Our third grandchild had decided to join us a couple of weeks early. Because the cord was wrapped around the baby's neck twice, a C section was required. That meant that grandpa spent some quality time with the baby's older brother, Coen. So I had my hands full. Now
Bailey Matthew Folkerts is home with his family and all are fine.
The day after he was released from the hospital, I was privileged to be included with a group of writers who all had in common that they had graduated at some point from our alma mater Manchester College (University now). We were based in the area of the Student Union that used to be the bookstore. Our presence there was a part of homecoming weekend. I was so impressed with the activities that were planned and the participation of all the former students.
I realize that this particular blog is not related to my experiences as a teacher, but the experiences from yesterday directly reflect the learning that still is a major part of my life. As I drove onto the campus, that warm feeling of being home again surged through me again. This place was my home for only for years, but as I sat at my table I reflected on the impact that Manchester has had on my family. My grandfather graduated with a degree in teaching as our first Spartan grad. My mother completed her degree in home economics there, gave birth to me there, and lived her first year of married life there. My father attended classes sometimes at Manchester before he was kicked out. Finally, my daughter and son-in law both graduated from Manchester.
My whole family history revolves around this school. What I found out yesterday was that I wasn't alone. A steady stream of grads came by my table, each of them asking about my book. When I told them that it was a fictional story about my freshman year at Manchester, I heard stories about their years at Manchester.
Students from North Side and Jefferson Middle School stopped by to see me. Each of their stories mirrored those from past generations. But Paige reminded me that she wanted to make sure that students who are looking to colleges and are worried about costs at a school like Manchester should not give up on the small colleges. Manchester made sure that they were competitive, and she is getting the education that she wanted with small class sizes and the help that she needs.
I watched as my fellow writers interacted with their former professors. Not only did they recognize each other but they told stories of their time together. I didn't go to a big college, so I don't know if that can happen there or not. I know at Manchester it happens regularly.
That is where the best experience of the day came for me. I sort of recognized the man from my past, but it didn't register. He was talking to the writer with whom I shared the table. I first started talking with his wife noticing that she was class of 47, my mother's class. We talked about her and how I was born on campus and lived in the married trailers with my parents.
Gradually, the man whom I recognized joined the conversation when I mentioned my mentor at Manchester Warren Garner. He introduced himself as David Waas. Then it clicked. David Waas was one of the most respected members of the professors when I was on campus. I never took a class that he taught, but always wished that I had. All of my dorm mates who had the privilege of attending his classes were amazed at his knowledge and his ability to get that knowledge to his his students.
What we had in common was Manchester. His links crossed my links all the way back to my parents, my time on campus, even to the fact that his granddaughter and my daughter were friends when they were at Manchester. But it went beyond that, we discussed writing, our experiences in life, and the future of Manchester. It was truly exhilarating. Then we discussed some of my favorite professors. Of course, he knew where most of them were. Two of my favorite faculty members now live in the same retirement community where he now resides with his wife.
I spoke of Warren Garner earlier; he lives at Timbercrest with Dr. Waas. He was not just a mentor, but he has always been there in my mind since graduation, reminding me on how to teach and why I chose this profession. I missed the luncheon honoring him while I was at the book signing, but Dr. Waas took my book which I asked him to share with him.
I also asked him to share it with Jim Gratz the other influential professor in my life. For some reason, Jim gave me responsibilities while I was on campus. I never understood why he did that, but I appreciate that he did. I miss him greatly. He and Warren Garner were my campus fathers.
When Dr. Waas and I completed our discussion, I spent most of the rest of the day with a smile on my face. I had come back to sign a book about a small period of time on the Manchester campus. I left realizing that I and many other students over the years have participated in countless stories on campus and our lives after. I want to thank David Waas, Warren Garner, Jim Gratz, and all the others who have influenced the lives of young people over the years. You made such an important difference in so many lives directly, and exponentially through those lives, so many more.
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