We limp into the last week of the semester – – or at least, I’m limping. No need to rehash the challenges. I want to thank all of you for staying the course.
To be honest, compared to seeing and mixing with you in class – – this doesn’t really felt like the kind of education I cherish. I sympathize in new ways now with all those sci-fi movies about astronauts stranded on space stations, trapped on defunct rocket ships, and doomed to endless interstellar voyages.
This voyage will however come to an end, and I urge you to stay on-board all the way to the finale. Even if bits and bytes can’t ever substitute for the classroom, please keep on plugging away. This interregnum will conclude, and you’re all going to play important roles in our post-COVID world.
Your final assignment: read Allen Ginsberg’s magnificent protest poem – – “Howl” – – and make three annotations on its first section. Make these by Friday, May 15, at noon. That way I can tote up all your contributions to the class and arrive at your final grades. I’ll post these to iLearn on Tuesday, May 19. Look for an email alert from me.
Back in the dark days of the late 70s, when it seemed that a different crisis was bringing down all that gave me joy and hope, I listened to “Alternative Ulster” (above) a lot. It’s a song written from within the barbed-wire desolation of Northern Ireland. It lashes out at wasted lives but also somehow manages to discover energy and hope. Even though it’s not American literature or song, if I had an anthem for the present moment, I might go with “Alternative Ulster.”
Stay anti-social, don your masks, and wash your mitts. (I know from personal experience that COVID-19 is no fun.) Take care of your friends, family, and tender comrades. Be of good cheer and have faith – – we’ll meet again.