How-Fortunate-to-be-a-Teacher

Peace Vet

The Writings of Camillo Mac Bica, Ph.D

How Fortunate I was to be a Teacher

Camillo Mac Bica

at her convent in India, a Zen Master at his temple in Florida, an expatriot Vietnam veteran who chose to live the remainder of his life in Danang, and members of the Afghan youth peace group in Kabul, several studying art. Probably one of my best remembrances is of taking two of my classes to the Occupy Wall Steet encampment at Zucotti Park instructing them to wonder about, observe, and speak with the occupiers, as well as with passersby, and members of the police, to get a sense of what they were trying to accomplish. Afterwards we sat in a circle, joined by several occupiers, a Wall Street worker, and a couple of police officers and began a discussion in which all participated, interacted, sharing their impressions, support, opposition, etc. to what they saw and learned. One student was so excited about the interaction that he called home to tell his parents about the experience. Unfortunately, his father, less excited than he, immediately phoned the school, and complained to the Provost about my placing his son in “danger.” I was soon called to the Provost’s office together with the department Chair, Bob Milgrom, to answer for my actions. Bob said he trusted me and wasn’t concerned about the safety of students as he was sure I could handle a jaunt around a Manhattan park after having spent 13 months entrusted with the lives of Marines in the jungles of Vietnam. Many of us miss Bob tremendously. My explanation was that I preferred my classes to be a part of history, rather than to just read about it from a book and in a classroom. Eventually the Provost concurred and I still had a job.

As one approaches retirement, I think, it is common to look back upon one’s life’s work hoping, questioning, whether you’ve lived your life well, in a positive way, done some good, and accomplished something of worth. Then, sometimes, unexpectedly, if you are truly lucky, from out of nowhere your spirit is lifted and you find some peace. Below, I invite you to share (with her permission) a message I've just received from a former student who I haven’t seen and spoken with since we shared a classroom many years ago.

“You were a professor of mine at SVA in the mid-90s, and I just wanted to let you know what an impact you had on me. You were the first adult/authority figure I saw treat kids (I was 18-19 at the time) with equal respect. I remember you speaking and a student interrupting you. You would have been well within your rights to admonish him or continue speaking over him, but you didn't. You stopped and listened to him. You sincerely listened, responded, and then went on with what you were saying. You always did this. You always listened. You always allowed everyone the opportunity to speak- to have their own thoughts, feelings, and opinions. You would even take a "backseat" yourself to allow them to do so, but there was so much strength in you doing this. It may seem inconsequential, but it influenced the way I treat people to this very day- the way I raise my children, treat co-workers, and conduct interviews (I became a journalist). I spend a lot of my free time protesting the current administration, and I think of you and all you taught us about war and peace, respect and really listening to one another. I wanted to thank you.”

. . . not inconsequential at all. How fortunate I was to be a teacher.

At the end of this Spring semester, I will be retiring after some 36 years of teaching philosophy at the School of Visual Arts in Manhattan. I know some look forward to retirement and are excited about no longer having to concern themselves about the weather conditions during a long commute to the city (I live on Long Island), dealing with a changing bureaucracy at the college, and the attempt by those in government to exert more control over what we teach, who we teach, and how we conduct our classes. I, however, love what I do, and will miss teaching immensely, the challenge of engaging students in dialogue, exposing them to the great thinkers, encouraging them to critically think and question what they read and have been told—even by me. I enjoyed exposing my students to diverse learning experiences, such as meeting and interacting over zoom with a Buddhist Nun

Comments are welcome

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