Tonight's Poet Corner: Introspection

I would be lying if I said that my mentors and teachers weren't the main reason why I decided to become a teacher myself. They have been a godsend to me, as both a student and a teacher. When my school's yearbook was distributed yesterday and today, I was prepared to deal with fall-out. And yes, despite an overwhelmingly positive reaction, some mistakes were made, affecting more students than I certainly would have liked.

Still, I worked to rectify the problem. I empathized with the students and offered them the best solution I had. And I hope it helps. It's what I learned to do, in order to become a compassionate and problem-solving educator.

My principal, colleagues, and fellow teachers have all served as wonderful mentors to me this year as I've navigated yearbook and my English classes. I have worked with an amazing mentor teacher for my induction, had the former yearbook teacher and her husband assist in creating the yearbook, and learned so much from my fellow English teachers. As this first year working at my new town's high school draws to a close, I know so much more, and have learned so much more, than I ever thought possible.

Of course, this also got me thinking about my past teachers and mentors - particularly, a man by the name of Mark Miller, a rabbi who taught my Hebrew Scriptures class at Chapman University in 2010.

Rabbi Miller was a warm, fun, scholarly, and good-humored man. He helped me interpret scripture at a time in which religion was extremely important to me. In fact, he so positively affected my academic experience that I wound up paying homage to him in my miniseries, Full Of Grace. In the series, there is a character named Rabbi David Asher, who leads a congregation of Reconstructionist Jews and helps the protagonist explore Judaism as part of her struggle with being both gay and Catholic. Asher the fictional rabbi is certainly different than Miller the actual rabbi was, but I did use quite a few quotations that Rabbi Miller actually said in class.

I was actually planning on sending Rabbi Miller the manuscripts once they were edited, and I had reached out to him last December. He expressed interest and gratitude that I had reopened contact. Then work caught up with me, and I was only able to email him again last night. A few hours later, I received a reply from his wife, informing me that Rabbi Miller had sadly passed away after a fifteen month long battle with pancreatic cancer.

Receiving that email absolutely broke my heart. I had been completely unaware of Rabbi Miller's battle with cancer, and it struck me on a personal level because I lost my maternal grandmother to the same disease. I wished Rabbi Miller's wife and her family condolences, and I agreed to still send the miniseries once it was fully edited so they could have something to remember their "Abba" by. My main regret was not sending my work to him while he was still alive, as I would have wished for him to read a story that had been inspired by his positive effect on my life as both a scholar and an individual.

That being said, I want to finish this introspection with some of Rabbi Miller's own words. Some of them are funny; some of them are deep. Some are both at the same time. Whether or not you were a friend of mine who also took a class with him at Chapman - or perhaps you were even a part of his congregation, if this world is truly as small as I believe - I hope you can find some comfort, amusement, or wisdom in his words. I know I did. I still do.

Enjoy.

Don’t talk theology with a snake.

They say in war, truth is the first casualty. I think in war, G-d is the first casualty.

I believe that scientists will discover the center of the universe – and many will be upset to find out it’s not them.

They say people go to Heaven for the climate and Hell for the company.

If reality TV is reality, I want to live in Fantasyland.

When people ask me, "Do you ever wonder if there is intelligent life in the universe?" I tell them I’m still looking for intelligent life on Earth.

The greatest threat to theism is not atheism. The greatest threat to theism is lukewarm theism.

I don’t know what he [Christopher Hitchens] is like sober, and I don’t think he knows, either.

I have thousands of books. I’ve read three.

The only person who likes change in the world is a baby with a wet diaper.

I get my British philosophers mixed up after a while.

The definition of a genius, by the way, is an average child born from Jewish parents.

My middle name is Simcha, which means, ‘happiness,’ so I like to say that happiness is my middle name.

So did any of you watch Glee last night?

You know why it [urban life] creates apathy? Well, I don’t care.

The Westboro Baptist Church…a group of 70 people, and they’re all family. They’re all related to this one pastor. Little too much inbreeding, but…

Sometimes I wonder if Earth is the lunatic asylum of the universe, and all the nuts are sent here.

As you can see, I’m still an optimist – I don’t say they [students] aren’t here, I say they’re not here yet.

The whale is in Pinocchio, people! This is Jonah, not Geppetto!

I spend a lot of time in hotels, and you know, that Gideon bible is right there…

Didn’t I tell you about Judaism? Four words: "We had it first!"

Blues musicians don’t play the blues to feel better – they play the blues to make you feel worse.

I say change is inevitable – except from vending machines.

I’ve met a few players in my time.

Have I ever told you that the older I get, the softer people talk?

There are simplifiers and complexifiers in life, and people [who work] at universities are definitely the complexifiers.

Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t give out grades. I just report the news.

You know the difference between an optimist and a pessimist? The optimist wakes up every day and says, "Good morning, G-d," while the pessimist wakes up every day and says, "Good G-d, morning."

The difference between a wise person and a fool…a fool spends his time trying to get out of situations that a wise person wouldn’t have gotten into in the first place.

We tend to metaphorically jump out of the plane without a parachute.

By the way, capital punishment in Italy – that’d be a great last meal.

Chivalry is not dead. It’s just on life support.

What I hope for this class is that the wisdom remains while the education is forgotten.

I firmly believe that the wisdom, indeed, remains. Thank you, Rabbi Miller.

Have a great night and a great weekend, everyone.