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The Light Bulb Comes On
I hated studying history. In my high school years, history was pure drudgery. I still remember my teacher: a little man, balding, with black framed glasses. The problem wasn’t the difficulty of his classes; it was his approach to history. Every few days we were assigned a section to read in the history book and we were to answer the list of five to eight questions at the end of the chapter. Yawn. We were expected to know events and dates; we didn’t need to know much more than that.
So when it was time to go to Cal. State Long Beach (it wasn’t Cal. State University yet), I was excited to know that we’d have plenty of choices about the classes we could take. Then I learned about the basic requirements. Which included Western Civilization. Not again, I thought. But I figured I’d get through the pain of boredom early so I took the class in my first semester. Little did I know that it would change my life.
I was a bit encouraged when I met the professor. Her name was Donna Boutelle, and her primary area of study was the Middle Ages. She was a small woman, shorter than I am, and her face was prematurely wrinkled, giving her an impish quality. That impression was only strengthened by the twinkle in her eye, her hearty, raspy laugh, and her dry sense of humor. My memory of her would always be of her holding her thin cigar (in a holder, of course) in the corner of her mouth. She looked like a miniature gangster. And I loved learning with her.
I was beginning to actually enjoy my history studies, learning first about the Greeks; we focused mainly on essays written by the scholars of those times. We had our first quiz, and although I was a bit perplexed by having an essay to complete, I forged ahead. When the quiz was returned to me, I was apoplectic and humiliated. I’d received a “D”! How was that possible?! I had always been an A’s and B’s student. When I did almost as poorly on the second quiz, I knew I had to do something. So I met with Dr. Boutelle during her office hours.
She patiently and kindly explained that history was not just information, but it was about the people, the culture and the norms. We didn’t just read the essays of people of the time to know what happened, but also to understand what they were saying about life and attitudes and beliefs. Her response to me sounded reasonable. But I had no idea what she was talking about. I left her office feeling a combination of relief and perplexity.
So I patiently pored over the essays of these famous writers of Greek history. What were they telling me? How could I understand what they were saying about themselves? About the peoples they lived with? About the enemies they fought?
As I struggled to pierce what seemed like an impenetrable wall of confusion, the proverbial light bulb came on. Was I beginning to understand what was underneath the writings of these historians? I traveled mentally through years of human and cultural development, wars, and traditions, and I realized I might actually be realizing the depth of their teachings. I must have dashed to meet my professor to share what I was learning, desperately and excitedly hoping that I was finally seeing through my own misperceptions and limitations about history. I don’t remember for certain, but when I told her what I’d discovered, she must have thrown back her head and laughed raucously at my delight.
I finally understood.
History and Dr. Boutelle changed my life in so many ways. I learned not only to see through the mundane and obvious in my life in general, but I have spent the last 40 years delighting in the histories of many civilizations.
What a gift she gave me.
What have been your moments when the proverbial light bulb came on?
Published in Group Writing
Momentary diversion for the thread – I remember a performing group from Long Beach’s Wilson HS that made a positive impact on race relations in the early 1970’s. My all-white high school from Newport Beach (Corona del Mar HS) was playing a basketball playoff game against Long Beach’s Wilson. At half-time, a dance group from Wilson performed a show in an urban Black style that none of us from Newport Beach had ever seen. Their show was completely infused with excellence, precision, and joy. Us white kids from Newport Beach gave them a standing ovation and developed a new appreciation that “Black” did not have to mean “low quality.” Wilson HS students taught us some valuable lessons that night that left us with more positive views of Blacks than we had before.
Fantastic. What a great way to learn and be empowered!
I think this has been a major failing of many history classes. The analysis of causes and effects are what I liked about the summer school class I noted earlier. The living history museums (like Williamsburg, Henry Ford Museum, several California missions, etc.) have often does well at spurring me to think about the larger picture.
Nope. Ah my brain hurts trying to remember names. A couple of professors in Russian history.
Went to Rancho Alamitos in Garden Grove first two years , graduated from South High School in Torrance. So close and yet so far!
What an intimate way to connect with your history and the larger story!
I love this youtube channel for that sort of thing.
After watching them eat cakes and drink tea, I’m hungry all over again! Very interesting!
I was always good in math and discovered what you did in 8th grade or so when I began reading history of science books. The first few books were on quantum mechanics and its development. I suddenly realized that how we were taught science was flat while science was actually had a sharp topology with lots of ups and downs – and people and personalities.
Wonder if they still talk about Father Serra or is that the state promoting a religion.
This conversation begs the contrary question: One about lights going out.
My son was a whiz at arithmetic, and loved working with numbers. He was in an advanced class. Then we moved to Spring Valley,TX and a new school, this would be I believe 5th or 6th grade. They decided he needed to prove himself before being put in their honors program. Almost overnight his new teacher managed to cause him to hate numbers and he’s never really overcome it.
Nope. It’s now viewed as the state promoting genocide.
I was blessed with great history teachers growing up. I am so glad you are now enjoying my favorite subject.
Especially on the left coast that’s what I expected.
I had Russian history with Springer, Hood’s age. I dropped one class with him my first semester, but took part 2 the next, which was his last semester. An odd man, wore women’s clothes most the time, but not clothes a modern woman would normally wear. Had a beard. Lecturing some days, sitting at a table going on a tangent another. One day he discusses an LA Times article about Kurt Vonnegut.
I’ve always loved history, so I can’t say I’ve ever really had “ah ha!” moments when learning something new. I am very happy my father taught me my pre-algebra when I was homeschooled, because he did an excellent job de-mystifying it. I don’t get math intuitively, but I understand how to learn math — each concept is just another tool in my tool box.
I do love watching @mramy learn new history facts, because he does have lots of “ah ha!” moments, particularly when he learns how some plot point from Terry Pratchett or Game of Thrones is based on a real event.
Me too!
Mmmm… I think I’d remember him…! I just remembered one–don’t remember which history. Dr. Svec. A bit odd but entertaining .
I fondly recall an American Studies class in high school. The class was a two-hour block class which met every school day where we covered American Literature, American History, American Art, American Music and American Culture. We learned to identify art by Peale, Stuart, the Hudson River School artists et al; music by Sousa, Jelly Roll Morton, and Copeland et al; read the American works – Hawthorne, Twain, Arthur Miller, Sinclair, Whitman etc. Still found time to study the Petticoat affair, the Teapot Dome scandal and learn to square dance. The class was team-taught by two wonderful and passionate teachers. I never felt more “Knowledge connected” than I did with that class. I had wonderful courses in literature and history later on in college, but those classes seemed to be confined to their subject area bubbles. The American Studies class made me see the interconnectivity of it all and I was always looking for that in my later classes (often on my own).
1st Runner-up was my Louisiana history class. The teacher was great, but who can resist the study of Mardi Gras, the pirate Lafitte, the Acadians, and Huey Long? Cajun vs. creole anyone? Our class trip was to the River Road plantations where the awfulness of slavery and the cotton/sugar cane economy was juxtaposed with the genteel plantation owners’ lives. I’ve often wondered if the History of Wyoming is as mesmerizing….can’t be! LOL!
It all sounds terrific, @dominiqueprynne. What a delightful way to grow and learn! Don’t underrate those Wyomingans–you never know!
My high school history teachers were great (both of them) even though I sometimes took positions in which it was me vs the teacher and the entire rest of the class. And I also came from a family that often talked history. And I came from a religious tradition with a historical outlook.
One of my brothers was like that. One bad teacher, and he was off the subject forever.
In high school my history teacher was Miss Shirley Gibbs, who had a passion for puns. If we wanted to have a five-minute break from history, all we had to do was one pun on a subject such as “corn.”
I had an anti-light bulb teacher. Chemistry, 11th grade, Mrs. Becker. It wasn’t just me, nobody else could figure out what she was saying either. So, protons, neutrons, electrons, nucleus, electrons in orbits; to this day, that’s pretty much everything I know about chemistry.
Should have had Venus Flytrap as your teacher.
When I posted that, and said it was my level, I wasn’t kidding. That really is all I remember.