The Best Class I Ever Had

I offer my most recent column in the Aberdeen American News.

The best class I ever had was the result of a series of accidents compounded by mistakes. It was an accident that the old Jonesboro High School, a classical building with red brick and tall white pillars, was gutted by a tornado a few hours past my sixteenth birthday. It was probably a mistake for the Arkansas state legislature to replace the traditional three years of English with a set of half-year electives. That was a very 70’s thing to do: choice, man!. But it fragmented the curriculum, and allowed too many students to choose the least challenging classes. 

It was also mistake to try to sneak a little religion into the school house by creating a course called Biblical Literature. A few years later the Solons in Little Rock tried to mandate the teaching of creation science along side evolution, and the federal courts gave them a good hard rap across the knuckles.

Bible Lit was a safer proposition. Students were supposed to study the Old Testament the same way they would Shakespeare’s Macbeth in English Lit, but I’m sure that Little Rock was hoping for something a little closer to Sunday school. What actually happened depended on one final accident. We had a perfect teacher. Ms. J. was a person of strict, Protestant faith. You could talk about such things back then. She was also fiercely committed to freedom of thought. Everyone had a right to declare what he or she believed. Finally, she had imagination. 

The year after the tornado we went to school in the main building at the county fair grounds. Our classrooms were windowless rectangles, bounded by heavy curtains. Ms. J. took advantage of this. She divided the room into two sections, each three rows deep, and facing one another. She set up her podium in the middle. When I first saw an English parliamentary debate, the set up of the House of Commons had a familiar look to it.

Exactly as Ms. J. had planned, the two sides of the room came to seat opposing parties. On the one side were the traditionalists. They were fond of familiar readings, and they defended the coherence of the Biblical story with fortitude and intelligence. A slender blonde named Joan served as unofficial majority leader. Those of us on the other side delighted in surprises and contradictions. We tried to read every verse in a way that would offend our grandmothers. 

At that time I looked ironically like my Grandmother’s picture of Jesus: bearded, with hair down to my waist, only with an earring dangling against my left jaw. I don’t think I had ever been leader of anything before, but in Bible Lit I was captain of the radicals. 

When we arrived for class, everyone had read the assignment. We struggled for control of Genesis and Judges like legislators over a budget. The quoted passages provided the only ammunition we were allowed to use. When Joan or I stood to make a point, we commanded every ear inside the curtains. Should you want to know what education looks like, that would be it.

When I hear people argue about the teaching of evolution, I think back to Bible Lit. I believe that Darwin’s theory is spot on as far as science goes. I am opposed to the teaching of creation science or intelligent design in public schools. But I think it’s a bad mistake for the Bible to be shut out. As Socrates and Ms. J. realized, the way to get folk’s attention is to engage them in arguments they care about. People care about this one. 

Biology texts could easily present the Biblical account along side passages from the Origin of the Species. Darwin himself constantly invites us to do just that. Of course some teachers will interject religion and others atheism, but we ultimately have to trust the classroom to those who meet in it. If we want biology to come alive, we should imitate Ms. J. She was a person of perfect faith. Faith in the Deity, and faith in dialogue.