In their own words...
I, along with Jim Sheldon, and then Shirley Veenema, offered the only interdisciplinary class listed in the Course of Study for many years. It was dedicated to the Vietnam War and offered as a double credit for both English and Art. An impressive collection of major writers and artists connected to the war, including Michael Herr, Tim O’Brien, and Yusef Komunyakaa, came to this seminar, titled A Hard Rain. Secretary of State John Kerry, then a senator, came to the class twice to speak about his war experience.
Eventually my two other senior electives, Rosebud (cotaught with Elaine Crivelli in the art department) and The Essential Gesture (cotaught with Diane Moore from religion and philosophy), also evolved into interdisciplinary courses. All these classes represented a new pedagogy for Andover, one that attracted dedicated students.
In response to a 1996 Steering Committee Report recommendation, I was asked to construct a different model, a Capstone, for selected seniors to complete their Andover education. The Abbot Scholar Program, which I co-led—first with Diane Moore and then Aya Murata—offered students the opportunity to study a subject in depth for two terms, culminating in public presentations. These scholars also participated in a weekly seminar devoted to their work.
During my tenure, through Andover’s support, I have traveled to or lived in Tanzania (sabbatical), Costa Rica, India, Vietnam, France (SYA), and South Africa. All these experiences deeply affected my teaching and especially my choice of books and films for various courses.
Throughout the years I have served on a variety of committees, been a coach, and a house counselor (Paul Revere and Williams Hall). My wife treated the students as her own children, often hosting them in our dorm apartments for special munches. A strong supporter of Andover events, especially performances, she has maintained a very visible presence on our campus. Our three children, Jesse, Aaron, and Hannah, all Andover graduates, had a magical childhood growing up here.
Go Well, Stay Well
For my students
It’s the last day of classes.
Remarkably, the students remain animated and engaged.
I’ve planned no activities other than reading
Louise Gluck’s Retreating Light,
A poem expressing a teacher’s farewell reflections.
I start, but suddenly, observing their faces filled with anticipation,
I can’t continue, even after several attempts.
Tim, a ninth grade varsity pitcher,
Rises from his seat
And gently takes the book from me,
Touching my shoulder with a tenderness
Reminiscent of a son’s embrace
Before a long absence.
After he completes the poem,
Students file from the room,
Leaving me alone among silences
Grateful for love’s unexpected appearance.