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I remember Max very well.
He had a Ph. D. from Princeton. He was a Chaucerian. He was brilliant, eloquent,
and professorial. He possessed everything respectable in a human being —a good
mind, a sound professional ethic, a sense of learning’s place in the universe.
Max was truly an educator,
But there is one thing I haven’t told
you about Max: I hated his guts.
Max was my freshman-English
teacher. And while he was, in a sense, everything I desired to be (that is, a
gentleman and a scholar), he was also a man who force-fed me for 15 weeks on
literature and grammar (and what a foul stew it was!)
Today, I
am a college teacher myself, and have discovered that very few students are
encountering their own version of Max.
This is not to say that
younger, up-and-coming professors are less erudite or well trained than Max was.
On the contrary, the scarcity of academic job opportunities has virtually
A. lenient and permissive
B. eager to please his students
C. disgusting and loathsome
D. strict and demanding
