I began my philosophy minor accidentally when adding Ken Buckman's Social Philosophy class my freshman year. It was rough going for me, untrained and unready for the rigors of a philosophy class built on the premise of, gasp, thinking, and my brother's death that semester only made my problems worse. I dropped Ken's class, promising that I would add it next semester. And, unlike most promises made to professors, I went back and took that class. It changed my life.
Ken's method of teaching pushes the students to think for themselves, to question their approaches to life and society, to weigh right and wrong and, more importantly, why they think something is right or wrong. I tend to think of Ken as a modern Socrates, answering every question with one of his own, leading the horse to the water but leaving the final decision and work for the horse.
He was a mentor to me in a roundabout way. I was not as close then, nor am I now, as I would have liked, because Ken was crushed often by waves of adoring students. And rightfully so, he was deserving of accolades and respect, an honorable man. I would stand in line at his office to discuss some thought weighing on my mind, but, too often, when I finally reached my goal, I would become distracted by his easy going manner and wander off into a discussion of Vince Coleman, the St. Louis Arch, or some other meaningless subject, soon forgotten after exiting.
It was this inability to connect in a deeper way that drew me to his wife's, Te Norman, office. I realize this may come across as insulting to Te, but the facts are the facts and the friendship that resulted is no insult to either of us.
Te is a great professor of her own right. She is the embodiment of a powerful woman: headstrong, fiercely independent, knowledgeable and wise. Prior to knowing Te, my concept of a feminist was limited to the rantings of Rush Limbaugh. It was only in getting to know her that I realized the importance of equality, not only in word, but also in action and reality.
I took two classes with her, Logic and Intro to Phil., and I have recommended her classes to many of my friends. Funny, her reputation as a professor is incredibly accurate. "She's tough." Te will make you think in her classes. She will force you find the flaws in your logic (no pun intended) and face your own mistakes. As a friend, she dealt with me, over and over again, with grace and instruction that I cannot explain nor did I warrant.
One day while in her office, discussing Simone De Beauvoir and her theories on equality, Te recommended reading The Second Sex. I was interested and she went online to check the prices on a used book website. I told her I would rush home and bid on it. Te instead bought the book outright. Thinking she had plucked my aim from before my eyes, I laughed and called her a thief. Two weeks later, visiting her office, I found the book, wrapped and given to me, signed "the thief". In my entire collection of books, I hold that one as one of my favorites.
Neither Te or Ken are dead. As far as I know, they are nowhere near that. They continue to educate at their respective schools. They are heroes of mine. And friends. I do not think, even for a second, that without them, I would be what I am today. Thank you, dearest friends, I am in your debt.
4 comments:
dan, i can't tell you how moved i am that you speak about me in such kind terms.
i'd forgotten the book thief incident entirely! that was fun. you were outraged and trying to be nice about it. i already have a couple copies, one quite dog eared and full of ancient marginalia, and i knew you would actually read it, so it was a pleasure to give it to you.
you don't know this, but my oldest sister died in may while i was out of the country. her death made life look so pitiful, so pitiless, so ephemeral and ultimately meaningless.
your post reminds me that these little interactions we have everyday is what life is about. it's not the monumental but the minute that really matters. i am honored that you praise me, but i am more honored that such an amazing man counts me as a friend.
oh, did i mention that july 3, the day you posted this, was my sister's birthday?
i was remembering something else about getting to know you. you were sitting in the back of my logic class (rm 110?), and the class across the hall was too noisy. perhaps you were taking a test. i asked you to go request that they pipe down. i didn't realize that it was ken's class, and that the irascible scamp, andrew fish was in it. i'm sure you made the request with your characteristic grace and tact (i.e., you yelled at them). you came back into my classroom and announced in dulcet tones, "fish said to piss off." i don't know which of you i was more irritated with at the time, but that phrase became the basis of a birthday cake for fish that read "piss off, cowgirl," so it wasn't all in vain. being older and a bit more mellow (well, a tiny bit), i would laugh out loud these days.
you brash fart.
Hello Dan!
As usual, you are eloquent and thoughtful. your blog touched me so much because i too am different and better for knowing these 2 incredible people. They are a big part of why i'm going to graduate school, why i have chosen the kind of life they lead: Open, aware, deliberate, giving.
Take care Dan, and keep on keepin on....SERIOUSLY.
dahlia
Dan,
Despite the many writing classes I have taken, taught, and tutored, I could never match the eloquence of your tribute to Te and Ken. But as someone who interacted with many of their students over the years, I assure you that you have given voice to the gratitude of hundreds of students. I thank you for myself and all of them.
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