Where have all the flowers gone? That allusion implies how long I’ve been in the classroom

Came here to Hope College in 1971. Thought I’d stay maybe three or four years. Wednesday, April 23, thirty-seven years later, I walked out of my last class

Felt a little like Icarus in that Bruegel painting. Not that I plunged to my death. But I sure plunged. And all around me were students and teachers heading to their classes or meetings or study dates or out to lie in the first sunshine of spring, many of the students chattering away on their cell phones. I looked at the buildings where I got to be with my students and the one where I had my office, then walked to the car and drove home.

The scary thing about having a teaching life close down is that you have so little to measure it by. You hope that you did a lot more good than harm. And yet realizing even one harmful result could ignite a forest fire in your mind burning away any hopes for good memories that were trying to sprout, thrive, and offer some comforting shade.

So, you go home. When you walk in the door, Charlie the dog runs to greet you. A bit later Julie comes home from real work. You sit with her on the couch, turn on ESPN, take her hand, and feel all of what lies ahead stretching out there somewhere.

I wrote this essay for an anthology about teaching being prepared by my pal, Jeanine Dell’Olio, at Hope College. My students already know about my approach to grading, of course. Julie thought this would be a good place to keep this essay, with hopes these ideas can continue to stir up trouble.

……………………………

Degrading the Grade

Jack Ridl

I have spent my classroom life teaching in the arts, specifically poetry writing. Among the questions I am most asked is “How do you grade a poem? Isn’t it completely subjective? Isn’t it impossible to grade any art?”

Well, of course you can grade a work of art. You can decide to award an A for accomplishing effective use of various artistic elements or a grade based on improvement. You can grade based on a determination of quality. You can determine the criteria. I had a writing teacher whose grading system was A if you wrote as well as Shakespeare, B if  you wrote as well as Hemingway, C for “most of you, likely.” Another teacher offered this system: “C if your work makes me think. B if it makes me feel. A if it makes me laugh.” So, yes, you can grade an artwork.

But how to grade was not the issue for me. Why grade, and what are the consequences of grading, and does the grade help a student develop? These were the questions that would not leave my mind alone when I took a walk. Then one day came the epiphany. It was rather simple as epiphanies go: Grading was preventing my students from being artists, poets.

Grading interfered with the value of constructive critique. The grade was not an assessment, not even a reward or a punishment. It was a consequence. As soon as I would suggest to students that they could do something else with an ending or a line break or change the tone, all they heard was a grade plummeting. Defenses rose. They refused to see any alternative to the way they had composed the work, and stood firmly for the A grade they deserved. The result was stifled growth, inauthentic work, begrudging changes that took little if any effect, a hostile relationship between what should be a coach/mentor and a growing writer.

So I eliminated grading. I eliminated it in order to suggest, respond, criticize. And what happened? The students–ALL of the students–began to welcome suggestions and options and alternatives and even challenges. They were not unlike anyone learning to play the piano or to swim or to build a campfire. They wanted to create an effective work. They had always wanted to, but understandably because of school and its achievement evaluation based on measurement, they had to make their grade not their first priority but their first concern. Eliminating grading of their work enabled them to connect their priority with their concern.

And the reward became, dare I say, spiritual and communal rather than a “seal of approval.” They discovered the real reasons for creating. What became important was not confined to the “product.” Importance and value expanded into the process, not because it led to a product, but because the process itself brought valuable experiences, insights, revelations. The students began offering to one another both their poems and the value embodied in them and stories of what happened in the process, both of which enriched the entire class and created a deepening of community. One time I was challenged in a faculty meeting about what I was doing: “Why will your students do any of the work if it’s not going to be graded? What makes them do the work?”  My response was simply “The right reasons.” That sounds glib. It isn’t.

Something that surprised and liberated the students was that they began to discover real value in everything written, successful or not. We had complex and provocative conversations about the importance of the material. We decided together whether it resulted in an effective poem or not. Any image, moment, insight, any line break, the implications of the impact of the rhythm of lines could lead to conversation and worthwhile realizations. The poem did not need to be successful for us to find remarkable and worthwhile content and artistic attributes, ones well worth discussing. I realized that it was my job not to demand that they write successful poems, but to teach them what it took to write poems. They have the rest of their lives to write successful poems

Emily Dickinson didn’t sit down to write a poem for a grade. David didn’t write the 23rd Psalm and say to himself, “That’ll get me an A.” There were very important reasons for composing poetry. The students deserved to have access to that discovery.

But I was worried. Won’t some students blow this whole thing off? Won’t my reputation go down the tubes? Won’t I become a laughing stock, an “easy grader?” And won’t the students create mostly mediocre work?

That’s when another surprise arrived. Instead of mediocre work, the work improved. Not one student blew off a single assignment. And while many students never became full-fledged poets, more than in the past did. In 15 years since my epiphany, more than 60 students have gone on to the best MFA programs in the country and are publishing. No, there is no data.  But what I do know for sure is that every single one of the students had poetry restored to their lives, and have kept it as an important part of their lives since their graduation.

And as for me? I put away being a tough grader and became a “tough responder.” All that means is that I was no longer hesitant to make suggestions and corrections for fear I might “stifle” a sensitive soul. I no longer had to tell them the lie that they needed to develop a tough hide in order to take criticism. They could maintain their vision and voice and sensitivity. They could welcome critical response because it was in their behalf and their poem’s behalf. Critical response did not lead to a grade which had led them to play it safe and learn little. Critical response led to growth and the intrinsic joy that comes when beginning artists realize what can be done instead of hiding within what they can already do.

Happy Happy, everybody. We’re curling in for the long winter, and my last semester teaching at Hope. I’m looking forward to a lot of things, including Hope’s Winter Happening, mid-January, where I’ll be reading from Losing Season. Come by if you can!

Somehow in the kerfuffle and excitement of learning about CavanKerry publishing “Losing Season” next year, we neglected to mention a terrific honor Jack received, and how much it both tickles and warms him. The International Institute of Sport named Jack one of the 100 top sports educators in the country. The list is impressive. Jack’s been getting a lot of mileage out of being on the same list with, well, all of the others. At any rate, we got the word on the same day that we received word of the book, and the two are so connected, that we’ve conflated the news in our heads. What we think, more than anything, is how much Pop-Pop (Buzz Ridl, Jack’s Hall of Fame basketball coaching dad) would have loved this news. It’s a great honor, and Jack’s been having fun talking to writers and reporters from far and wide about sports education, his Dad’s record, and the little-known genre that is sports poetry.

My life in poetry has been made warm and magical because Julie Moulds Rybicki is in it. She lit up my classes more than 20 years ago, and has lit up my mind and heart and life ever since. I am not alone. I bring her back to my classes as often as I can so she can spread her gift to as many students as possible. Her work and devotion to students of all ages makes her one of those teachers whose gifts can never be measured or repaid in any way.  She’s given us so much.

So it especially infuriates me that she has had to fight with cancer for her whole adult life. But being Julie, she has beaten cancer over and over again. She has to put up another fight. It’s time for another transplant. And our health care system being what it is, and fighting cancer for 20 years doing what it does to a family’s finances, Julie and her family now need our help. I think we can give it, don’t you?

There’s a big fundraising underway. Come to it or mail it in. But please, let’s support our amazing friend, okay? And please help spread the word!

**** All-Star Poetry & Fiction Reading, Concert * and Party*****

To Benefit the NTAF Great Lakes Bone Marrow Transplant Fund

In Honor of Julie Moulds Rybicki

For Her bone marrow Transplant Relocation Costs

Featuring the Poetry and Fiction of: Con Hilberry, Bonnie Jo Campbell,   Bill Olsen,   Nancy Eimers,   Jack Ridl,

Jackie Bartley,   Rodney Torreson,   Diane Seuss,   David Lee, Elizabeth Kerlikowske,   Andy Mozina,   Danna Ephland,

Gail Martin,   Greg Rappleye,   Nina feirer,   Dave Marlatt, Susan Ramsey,   John Rybicki   and   Julie Moulds Rybicki

Also featuring:

Irish music by Dave Marlatt and the Rambling Boys of Pleasure as well as American Roots Acoustic music by Solid Geometry and a Silent Auction of arts, crafts and signed books.

Where:  Kraftbrau Brewery    www.kraftbraubrewery.com    

Located at 402 East Kalamazoo Avenue, Kalamazoo, MI 49007, 269-384-0288

When:  Sunday, November 4 from 3 to 7:30 p.m.

Cash Bar.  Food provided.  Cost: $5

Come enjoy wonderful words, live music, revelry, mingling, eating, drinking and dancing.

Schedule: 

3-4 p.m. American Roots Acoustic music by Solid Geometry

4-5 p.m. All-Star Reading Part I

5-6 p.m. Irish music by Dave Marlatt and the Rambling Boys of Pleasure

6-7:  All-Star Reading Part II

7-7:30. More revelry, auction results and wrap-up

For additional information, Email John Rybicki at jjrybick@yahoo.com

Tax-Deductible Donations Can Be Made Out To:

NTAF Great Lakes Bone Marrow Transplant Fund,

150 N. Radnor Chester Road,

Suite F-120, Radnor, PA 19087. 

Print “In Honor of Julie Rybicki” in the check’s memo section.

For secure, online credit card contributions visit: www.transplantfund.org or call NTAF at 1-800-642-8399, Monday through Friday, 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., EST.

Contributions are tax-deductible to the extent allowed by law.  This campaign is administered by the National Transplant Assistance Fund, a 501(c) (3) non-profit providing assistance to transplant and catastrophic injury patients.  Information:  1-800-642-8300.   Michigan registration number: MICS No. 11575.

Julie here, reporting for Jack, who is sitting, stunned on the couch right now… He’s just received word that “Losing Season,” his wonderful manuscript of whole-wide-world-in-a-small-town-basketball-season poems is going to be published by the exquisite CavanKerry Press. Those folks make gorgeous books. We’re just thrilled! Well, I’m thrilled. Jack’s in a stupor. I’ll let you know if he ever comes out of it.

Well, this “retiree” is back at work! I’m teaching the Intermediate Poetry Writing course this fall I have a great gang of poets in there including my philosophy professor pal Jim Allis. He enables me to say things like “Oh, that ontological move you made from the Aristotelian assumption of reality to the Platonic reality of reality which then implies a Buber-influenced relational reality just blew me away!” And the students with their affirmation of one another’s work have taken a conventional classroom and have transformed it into a safe and creative space. We get to hang out and talk about poems.

The second edition of Approaching Literature (Bedford/St. Martin’s Press) that Peter Schakel and I wrote will be out soon along with a new edition of our 250 Poems. Approaching Literature, we think/hope, is a richer book than the first time around. I’ve loved working with Peter. We’re a great good team, able to bring our very different strengths to the book. It was funny—at first, I kept worrying that I was having all the fun while Peter was doing the work I would not enjoy. Then we found out that each of us was concerned about that for the other. We were able to harmonize what each of us brought to the project. We always signed off our emails to one another with “On we go.” And on we went until, after two years of all but daily work we met the deadline.

Here’s something cheerful: You should all check out Julie’s knitting blog: knittingjuju.wordpress.com what she’s designed and knitted are now showing up all over the knitting globe, and I do mean globe. Wait’ll you see the sweater she made for me. I’ve reached the age where I could live in autumn in that sweater all year.

It was a rich week what with a terrific seminar class (July 30-August 3) at Hope College. The range of ages and experiences enriched everyone and David James’s directorship made everything a delight. Of course my back hurt all the more when one of the members of the class announced that both her son and her grandson had taken courses with me. One student proclaimed herself “the bag lady of emotions”!! It’s downright amazing to see people who don’t know one another become so close in such a short time.

Then that Sunday, I got to read with Jackie Bartley at the Fenn Valley Winery. I love this “gig,” everyone sitting around tables, everyone sipping wine and enjoying one another’s company. And it’s such a great “venue,” picturesque and warm-hearted. And ask Jackie for her new poems. They are stunning! Thanks to one and all at the winery for giving us all such a good time.

Have I ever been lucky this summer, getting to lead poetry workshops at The Far Field Retreat for Writers, at Interlochen’s first annual writers conference and at Ox Bow where I was surrounded by artists.

I highly and whoopingly recommend all three of these opportunities. They are so well run, never a bump in the road, everything moving along as if they are running themselves when one knows that behind the scenes, those in charge– Mary Ann Samyn, Anne Marie Oomen, and Jason Kalajainen–have made sure that we are in a writer’s paradise. What a joy to work with attendees ranging in age from 19-83 each carrying life stories abundant with sorrow and hilarity.

Julie and Charlie dog went along to Interlochen, and Charlie was in heaven each morning as he dashed out the door of our home on Green Lake and headed to the shoreline to roll in a dead fish. Ahhhhhh. Hmmmmm, maybe there’s a metaphor in there about this life in poetry.

Our class visited Mike Delp at his fishing camp, where Charlie tasted the life of a river dog.

Next up: A week long seminar in poetry that I’ll be leading at Hope College, July 30-August 3. Come join the good time. Just contact David James at Hope College — james@hope.edu

Then on August 5 at 2:30, I’ll get to read with Jackie Bartley at the Fenn Valley Winery. Come join us for poems and for tasting, sipping, downright imbibing in wine and one another.

Hi folks. Julie, the help, reporting in. We’ve given Ridl.com a new home and an upgrade through WordPress. (Bless WordPress. I love WordPress.) And that has enabled a really nice linking feature, which means linking to pals and buddies with blogs and pages out there in the world.

But Jack hasn’t kept careful records of all of his friends with web destinations. So if you have one, and you don’t see it on the list, would you let him know, and I’ll add you to the Friends’ links list soonly.

Onward…