My first Hemingway!

I took my eleventh graders to the library this morning. Their task was to select a novel for an outside reading project, which was to highlight an American author of historical significance. There were three requirements: 1) author must be American, 2) author must have been born before 1950, and 3) the novel (or extended narrative) must be at least 180 pages.

I thought this would be a pretty easy thing to do, especially since the students had with them a list of acceptable authors from which to select...

It was not easy. After about 35 minutes, half of the class had found a book, and the others had not. They kept coming up to me with books in their hands, seeking my approval. The odd thing was, in most of the cases, I could tell that the student did not want to read the book they had. They picked it up because it looked short and the cover was interesting.

They also seemed quite incapable of finding out the origins of the author, or they disagreed with the place of birth! One student argued with me about not being able to read The Lord of the Rings because Tolkien was from England. The same student later seemed eager to read H. G. Wells. He read the bio and asked, "Where is Kent?" "In England," I told him. "Ah, no. It is what Kentucky used to be called before it went by Kentucky."

"Oh-- I never knew that!"

It was very interesting to observe the students walking up and down the rows. Some of them had a sense of direction; others were literally wandering up and down the rows. Many had no idea what to look for. I'd ask them what kind of books or things they liked to read, and they'd kind of stare at me like I had asked them to tell me about their great-great-great-grandfather's first grade teacher.

I wanted to conference with each one of the students--to tell them about my favorite American authors--to get them to see how great their options truly were. I felt like I was among friends (the list of class American authors), so I wanted to introduce my students to all my friends.

My heart swelled when I saw one student go to check out The Awakening. I was thrilled to recommend Toni Morrison to a student who I think can handle and appreciate her. And I just about cried when one of my best students showed me Moby Dick. (I told her I'd help her out with that--recommend some chapters to skip, etc.)

So, I've been thinking about this library visit all day, and I find myself wondering where I first met these classic American authors-- my "friends." Even though it feels like it, I haven't always known of William Faulkner. I haven't always known Hemingway, Salinger, Wharton, and Hawthorne. I must have sat in an English class in high school and read my first Poe, my first Frost.

I wish I could remember it better. Some authors and stories do stand out to me--probably the ones I liked. Oh, those youthful days of my first Melville (it was Bartleby)...

My students would think I was crazy if I told them that some of my favorite memories from high school were the books that I read. I think I'll tell them anyways.