Teaching college Freshman Composition to students who see the course only as an obstacle to obtaining that cherished college diploma is a challenge.

However, I believe that no matter what you teach, you are teaching more than content: you are teaching ideas, approaches to life, and thinking and reasoning skills. As with any subject, teaching writing is also about making it interesting and entertaining, too.

A favorite assignment-experience was to take an abstract, 22-inch high wooden sculpture and place it, covered, on a table in the center of the room and have the 22-26 students pull their chairs in a circle around it.

“List all the things, at least a dozen, that you observe from your particular viewpoint,” I’d say, “even those things you only imagine you see.”

The carving was by art student, Lee Raymond, from Mountain View, Mo., who was in my class some twenty years before. I had purchased it because it was good and because he needed the encouragement—and the money.

I’d dramatically unveil it to reveal it in all its abstract woodenness. There would always be stony silence, then a few groans, and always several complaints.

Then they’d get to work.

Some of the things they saw: a desecrated stick of stove wood; a carving that made use of grain and knots; that it took a good deal of work and a long time to carve it; that is was walnut wood; that they “saw” an elephant, the back of a bald man’s head, a giant polliwog, a mouse peeking out of its hole, a speaker, a giant sperm cell, the sad, wrinkled face of a bloodhound, the backside of a cow, a strutting goose, etc.

Imagination is amazing!

Then I’d ask each to read the list. Once they had heard each other’s list, they wanted to “see the other side.”

Then we’d slowly rotate the sculpture, so eventually all could see what they had missed. Sometimes it took some explanation for others to see someone’s “bloodhound,” but eventually all saw all 360 degrees and what others had seen and imagined.

Then there was the debate as to which view was the most interesting—and how to arrive at a price for its worth: $20, $50, etc.

When I asked them to figure how many hours it took to make it, most figured about “50 hours.”

“At an hourly wage of $7.50, the minimum, that would make it worth $375, right?” I’d ask.

Reactions: “You’d have to be crazy to pay that much for it!” “Well, I guess the artist should get at least that much for his time involved.” “It’s worth whatever someone is willing to pay for it.”

The Big Lie: Then I’d turn the sculpture over and show the galley’s letter of “authenticity and appraisal” taped underneath: that it was from 1912, one of the few works in wood by Auguste Rodin and one of only three known abstract pieces by him, and that it was appraised for $45,000. (In teaching, it’s OK to lie to make a point, IF you tell the truth later!)

With that “knowledge,” the sculpture suddenly became a “good investment likely to increase in value,” even to the “desecrated-stick-of-stove-wood” adherents.

Then the truth was revealed: It was just a hillbilly student’s woodcarving.

Reaction: Excitement. Disappointment. “Why did you lie to us?”—and the inevitable question: “What did you pay for it?” By that time the class was over.

Assignment: “Write a 1000-word essay on what you learned from the class experience.”

Papers varied: Art is in the eye of the beholder. Value is in the eye of the beholder. Work and imagination can increase the value of something. All is fair in love, war, and teaching, etc. Always some perceptive student learned “you have to see all sides of a thing before you can form an opinion,” the intended lesson.

We say “everyone is entitled to an opinion.” No. They’re entitled to an informed opinion, having seen the topic 360 degrees, having assimilated the arguments and logic of “the other side.”

That includes our approach to politics and politicians, voting, foreign policy issues, national energy policies, discussions on blogs and Facebook—even to our buying gifts for the holidays. A foreign-made gee-gaw or knock-off? A work of art or product produced in the Ozarks—or the U.S.?

There are implications and consequences to our choices, every one of them, no matter how seemingly insignificant, and we need to know the “360-degree reality” before making them.

NOTE: For a look at pictures of the Block of Wood featured in this pieces, see WoodBlockPics.

About The Author

Dr. Fred Pfister was a member of the School/College of the Ozarks faculty for 26 years.  He taught in the English Department.  Since leaving C of O, he has remaining active in various endeavors.  He was editor of the Ozarks Mountaineer and All Roads Lead to Branson magazines for several years, and has been quite active in the Ozarks Writers League.  He has also won several awards in several categories in the Missouri Writer Guild contests.

Fred is a native Ozarker, claiming fame by being raised on the old Emmett Kelly (Weary Willie of circus clown fame) farm in Houston, MO.  One of his current  hobbies is bee-keeping, and honey from the Pfister hives is a treat to be treasured!