Back to School

Did you enjoy school as a kid? If so, chances are you continued your education in some form as an adult. If you hated school, you’d probably rather stick pins in your eyes. But you may be pleasantly surprised.

You probably know someone who returned to the classroom in their forties, fifties, or even older. Some completely changed career paths. The ones I know have no regrets, even if school was never their forte. I can think of several reasons why. One, they’re probably learning something they feel passionate about. Two, they are now paying for the course out of their own pocket and more deeply appreciate the cost of education. Three, they’ve matured enough to have developed a few study skills, self-discipline, and determination.

I returned to the classroom, so to speak, at age 50. Going to work at city hall gave me the chance to take the Manitoba Municipal Administration program by distance education. Even though municipal administration hadn’t exactly been a lifelong dream of mine, turning down the opportunity seemed foolish.

I won’t lie, studying was hard work. I didn’t enjoy all the courses. The professor who told me the Bible was an inappropriate source to quote in an essay on ethics made me throw up my hands. I felt humiliated by the one who suggested I take a basic writing class first. And I tore more than a few hairs out of my head over the accounting courses.

But, one by one, I finished the assignments and graduated with distinction after three years. No, it wasn’t a degree, but a certificate and the right to place the initials CMMA after my name. The experience boosted my confidence and helped me realize I wasn’t so dumb after all. It still comes as a shock when I receive emails or magazines sent to University of Manitoba alumni.

According to a May 2022 article in Harvard Medical School’s publishing platform, one of the best ways to keep your brain young is by stimulating it. Activities like reading, word puzzles, math problems, memorizing, learning another language, and taking courses all put our minds through “mental gymnastics” that keep the brain functioning. New connections between nerve cells are stimulated and may even help the brain generate new cells. This helps your brain retain or rebuild the neurological plasticity you naturally possessed as a child. Mentally stimulating activities can help you build a hedge against future cell loss. And if you can find an activity that requires both mental effort and manual dexterity, like painting or knitting, that’s a huge bonus.

So, keep doing your daily Wordle, crossword, or Sudoku. Force yourself to think. Learn something new.

And if you’re really brave, sign up for a course. You may just find it the start of something wonderful. I’ll be teaching the eight-week Creative Writing course offered by Red River College again this fall, on Wednesday evenings beginning October 11. I’d love to see you there.

 

 

The Teacher Learns Her Lessons

Last fall, I wrote about being invited to teach a creative writing course at our local Red River College campus. On March 30, we began Level 2 and will finish before the May long weekend. One day during her daily check-in call, my mother asked me an interesting question, especially intriguing coming from someone who taught school for at least two decades. “How do you teach writing?”

Darned if I know.

My students are all adults who learned to read and write as children, from trained teachers who actually understood how to teach. They’re avid readers. They generally remember basic grammar, spelling, punctuation, and sentence structure from high school. So what could I bring to the table, really?

Well, it turns out that writing, like many things, is as much about motivation, inspiration, determination, and dedication as about writing. Bringing all those “nations” together has been my goal. In a last-class letter to my Level 1 students, I wrote, “I can’t make you a writer. Your Creator already did that.”

My task involves challenging them to turn on the tap to start and to keep words flowing. Providing creative exercises that push them to new ideas. Assigning an increasing number of words to write every day so they can discern their personal limits and then set their own goals in Level 2. Offering constructive feedback to help them edit their work as well as the work of their classmates. Showing how to carve out time and space, set goals, and plan a project. I’ve caught myself giggling with gleeful anticipation when I dream up a fun writing exercise. I’ve seen that same exercise go swimmingly, only to see it quickly flush itself down the drain with my next group, taking my confidence with it.

You’ve heard about teaching a man to fish and feeding him for a lifetime? In our class, the joke is, “Give someone a book and they’ll read for a day. Teach someone to write a book and they’ll spend a lifetime mired in paralyzing self-doubt.”

There’s truth in that. I’ve shared with my students the ups and downs of the writing world, the process of getting published, living with the agony of rejection, and overcoming writer’s block. We’ve discussed genre, memoir-writing, novel-plotting, character development, and more. Each lesson is truly the tip of the proverbial iceberg as there’s always more to learn.

I know this because I’m learning along with them. I sure can’t provide all the answers. But we’ve laughed a lot, cried a little, and thought some new thoughts—all elements of a good day. I’m learning that I gain more through a humble “Great question, I don’t know,” than by faking my way through a half-baked answer. Disclosing my failures goes as far as sharing my successes. Providing others a chance to share their work, to take that risk and bare their souls even a little can prove incredibly rewarding.

In his 1902 play, Man and Superman, George Bernard Shaw wrote, “Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach.” This becomes the fear of every artist, that their work won’t be good enough to stand on its own merit. Teaching their craft to others is often seen as a last resort. A consolation prize. I hope to prove Shaw wrong. Maybe, by God’s grace, I can have my writing and my students, too.

 

Full Circle

I’ll never forget one November day in 1995. Grubby and exhausted from hours of cleaning other people’s houses, I stopped in at Red River College’s local campus to pick up my husband who was teaching an Accounting course there. He had recently lost his right arm in a farming accident, throwing our family into turmoil. I wondered what challenges this new life might press upon us. Would I be expected to increase my earnings to help support the family? How could I? After ten years of cleaning, I felt unqualified for anything else. The world around me had become computer-dependent while I lagged behind with my mop and dustpan.

While I waited in the hallway, the manager of the center, Irene Adams, breezed by.

“Hi, Terrie. Come see me before you leave. About some work.”

I watched her disappear into her office. Forget it, I thought. I am not interested in adding one more cleaning job to my list, especially one the size of this place. Please don’t make me do this, God.

I felt tempted to sneak out, but Irene caught me and called me into her office. To my surprise, it wasn’t a cleaner she sought but an evening clerk. Someone to handle the office from regular quitting time until evening classes began. The work would be cyclical and varied. The pay exceeded what I currently made. If I wanted, I could even take classes free of charge as long as they related to my position.

I spent the next four years at that job. The rusty hinges of my office skills received oiling as I got up to speed with computers. I took several courses toward an Office Administration certificate—all free of charge. My life’s trajectory had changed.

The leg-up Irene offered me that day enabled me to accept my next position at my church for ten years, followed by another decade at city hall before retiring in 2019. Recently, in one of those delicious twists, Red River College invited me back. Not as a janitor. Not as an office clerk. But as an instructor of Creative Writing, based on my seven published books and twelve years of writing this column—goals I could never have accomplished without those computer skills gained way back when.

Photo courtesy L. Driedger

I accepted the challenge, wondering how I could stretch what I’ve learned into eight 3-hour sessions. By the time we had three of those classes under our belts, I found myself trying to figure out what I must leave for a future course! I’m learning along with my students, and I hope I’m helping them “turn on the tap” as we increase our daily word counts each week. I trust they are gaining confidence and polishing skills. And I really hope they’re having as much fun as I am. In another interesting twist, one of my students is Red River’s evening office clerk—the job I held all those years ago.

Through it all, I appreciate so much more how God leads and provides through the hills and valleys of life. And how following that lead can sometimes take us full circle in the most astonishing and delightful ways.

Psalm 37:23-24: “The Lord directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives. Though they stumble, they will never fall, for the Lord holds them by the hand.”