Teaching Classes

Pictures of my office.

It was a relief to finally begin teaching after such a big buildup. I had gotten information from the orientation in Budapest and from my colleagues in Pecs as well. Everyone told me that the students do not talk, they are shy, they do not feel as if they should have an opinion, etc. I was also told that they talk to each other during class, especially in a lecture class. The students take at least six or seven classes and can have four literary seminars in English. They can’t possibly read everything. The professors all teach six classes unless they are an administrator and then they teach five. I can’t believe this. The major difference is that the classes meet once a week, usually for an hour and half. The professors in Pecs teach 12 hours a week but in 6 classes whereas we teach 12 hours in 3 classes. A big difference!

I am fortunate because I teach half this load. I am teaching three classes: one large lecture class and two seminars. The American Literature Survey II lecture class meets Tuesday mornings from 9 to 10:50, and both of my seminars are on Wednesday, one from 10 to 11:30 and the other from 12 to 1:30. So in actuality I teach only two days a weeks.

For my 45 minute lecture class, you should see the syllabus I am supposed to follow. Last week, I covered Edgar Lee Masters, two Sherwood Anderson short stories, and Cather’s My Antonia. I left out The Grapes of Wrath. This week I covered modern poetry: Robert Frost, Ezra Pound, William Carlos Williams, and Wallace Stevens. When I got to Stevens, I had about five minutes left! Next week is modern fiction: The Great Gatsby, The Sun Also Rises, “The Gentle Lena” and selections from Dos Passos. I am only grateful that I don’t have to do Faulkner that day. The semester ends with a one hour test; that’s it, no papers or anything else. It’s a blitz and you are not supposed to expect them to read everything and in fact, few attend the lecture. They take the final test. However, at the end of their study they have to take an oral exam on all this reading material and then write a thesis. Out of 64 students enrolled, I have about 30 attending. They are very attentive and even ask questions. The class flies. Students come up afterwards which pleases me no end.

The seminars are meant to be exactly that – seminars – and so are limited to 15. I have about 12 in my Modern Southern Fiction class and 9 in my Contemporary American Fiction. I was disheartened by the numbers. The first seminar is upper-level: higher than a B.A., similar but not quite a M.A. They are clearly a smarter group. We have begun with Faulkner short stories, and they are doing very well. They talked the first day. They like Faulkner, but know nothing about the South and don’t seem particularly interested in its history. Next week we start As I Lay Dying.

My second seminar is for students in the three year program. They are a hodgepodge: a goth vampire, a young monk ( real monk), a few young attractive coeds, and guys with jeans and hoodies. I started with a lecture on postmodernism that they liked and laughed at the right times. Today we did The Things They Carried, and I even showed them the old video of Tim O’Brien’s appearance at Cal Poly. I had to change classrooms to show them the video, but was delighted because the seminar rooms are very old.