I hope it isn't rude to jump in here when a question has been asked of Rhina, but I can't help but seize the opportunity to praise a poem, "Class Notes," from <u>Where Horizons Go</u>, which deals with the question Alan asks. In this poem, the persona is visited by the Muse, who has been angered by the teacher's too gentle ways with the bad poetry of her students. Chastened by the Muse, the persona resolves to deal more firmly with her students in the future. Here is the second half of the poem:
By morning I had vowed to be unswerving
in my devotion henceforth. And the test
came soon: shy, slight, neither the worst nor best
in a slow class, colorless, not a child
to be remembered long, she had a mild
aptitude for a flabby line or two.
But I was chastened now: "These will not do
for print just yet," I wrote her in red pen.
"Work on them; in September, try again."
By summer she was gone to foster care.
She'd wept behind her hand. I had been fair,
the Muse was pleased with me; the saints were not.
Saints, largely an unliterary lot,
apply the hairshirt skillfully, and boast
more tongues of flame than any Holy Ghost.
I've heard them all by now, and come no nearer
to answers either just or kind or clearer
than I had then, still fail to make an end
of war between firm teacher and friend,
hard fact, well-meaning lie, injury, touch,
what truth is worth and why it costs so much.
The poem doesn't offer any facile answers, but I can't imagine reading it and not wanting to listen to whatever its author has to say.
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