Remembering Richard Mitchell, Part 4

On the first day of class, he had, in the course of his introduction, written on the board the names of the books we'd be reading (Candide, Faust Part 1, and The Brothers Karamazov). Mitchell had been talking for a while, with no prospect of stopping (in fact, he told us that if the class period ended and he was still talking, we should just leave. He would stay and finish whatever he was discussing, by himself if necessary.).

Finally, as the class period was about to end, one student couldn't control himself any longer. He raised his hand and asked (more like demanded) when we'd be getting the syllabus.

"The syllabus?" Mitchell asked. "What do you mean?"

The student fired back, "Most teachers give us a syllabus on the first day. It has all of the information for the class."

"What do you need that for? What is a syllabus but a list of books you're going to read? There," he pointed to the board. "I've written the syllabus." He then resumed his talk as if he hadn't been interrupted. The student was silent.

I got to know that student over the course of the next year. He was in the other class I took with Mitchell. We were both psychology majors, but we took his class again anyway. That was the thing about Mitchell. He'd talk and talk and most of the class would daydream, study for other classes, or sleep (his classes were always early). But there'd be a couple of students in the class who recognized that they were having some of the most edifying experiences in their lives. I was one, but there were a few others, ones I didn't even know until the memorial service after his death.

Recently, I learned about a website where students can rate their teachers. I've been accused on a couple of occasions of talking about things unrelated to class. I don't think this site was up when Mitchell was still alive, but if it were, I'm sure he'd get some of the same responses.

I like that.