Asilomar English Teacher's Conference

Waiting for the Opening Session:
A brotherhood of educators—with droopy eyes and weary feet, we unite under the banner of doing what we do best, better. Although we’re suspicious of the strange faces, we share a particular bond. This is no education rally, diverse in its members. Our affection for words makes us sisters and brothers. We’ve graded those essays, awakened souls through literature, read the work of countless amateur poets, and giggled at ingenious skits. We smile knowing that, at our places of worship, in the grocery store, and at the gas station, we are members of a crowd. Here, however, we are acknowledged as an elite class of educators. We are the English teachers.

Opening Session:
She addressed the room with “Fellow Unrepentant Liberals:” We listened while she chattered about her qualifications. Then, the subsequent speaker mounted the stage. He proceeded to weave an argument, suggesting that progressives (damn liberals) are superior to conservatives. I learned:
Dobson=The Devil (or the secular counterpart)
Progressives>Conservatives
Competent Educator=Progressive
Conservative=Strict and detached
Progressive=Nurturing and empathetic

Group Session #1:
I’m insecure about my ability to “hang” among a group of intellectuals. Paradoxically, observing such a group is my forte and joy. I glean more from listening than from speaking. My eager ears are the manifestation of my contribution. The discomfort results from the well-intended comments. I cringe when I hear “Don’t be shy” and “Sherry, what do you think?” I process, I nod, I smile, and I take notes, but, dear God, please don’t require me to speak.