The Things I Carried

Examiner column for June 23.

     All week long I have been carrying 23 years worth of high school teaching paraphernalia to the trash, to my car, to my house, and to the thrift store. I have carried books and papers, student notes and George Foreman grills, paper plates, cough drops, and post-its.

    Every nook in my large classroom had something that needed to be cleaned up or put away, and there were memories attached to every item—even the soft Kleenex I brought in for students so they didn’t have to blow their noses on school-supplied “sandpaper” tissues.

    Tim O’Brien’s modern classic on the Vietnam War, “The Things They Carried,” has the dubious distinction of being the most frequently stolen book in my room; students will borrow a copy and never bring it back. The book is a moving, and highly symbolic, account of the burdens of war. Students identify with the things soldiers carry because they each have their own set of burdens.

    The things soldiers carry are heavier, in all respects, than the things teachers carry—but no less symbolic to who we are. Unlike soldiers, we don’t often run the danger of losing our lives, but our identities are taken over by our occupation just as soldiers’ identities are by what they do.

    Deciding what to take and what to leave is no easy task, for a teacher or for anyone else. We take with us what we can’t bear to leave. For me that included the most recent student evaluations of the meaning of my course, as well as this year’s pile of thank you notes.

    I took the books I knew I would consult or reread in the future, and gave away the rest. I threw out all quizzes and tests, but kept some college essays—because they were more personal.

    I tossed out my daughter’s gag gift of a ceramic jar labeled “Ashes of Problem Students,” but kept Niveen’s gift of a clear glass globe. I left my bust-of-Shakespeare paperweight but carried home the “Book Woman” tapestry that has hung behind my desk for 16 years.    

    Some of these treasures will find a home in my George Mason University office but—let’s face it—an office where I will spend several hours a week will never take on the dimensions of a classroom where I spent several hours a day.

    Did the process of moving make me sad? Not really. I was sad to leave the students, but that was a few weeks ago—before I left to grade Advanced Placement tests and before they left for graduation. Those students I’d grown attached to were leaving anyway, so I shouldn’t have been sad to see them go. But they were my last high school group, my last Advanced Placement seniors.

    Next year when I go off to grade those AP tests it will, for the first time, be an exercise about someone else’s students—not my own. So I am a bit sad that my personal investment in AP is over.

    But the connections I’ve made, with students and subjects, won’t end. I will continue teaching, continue reading, continue writing. That is what I will continue to carry, wherever I am.

Comments

[Johleen]

Dear Ms. Jacobs,

I stumbled upon your son's site after googling "Oscar Wilde, happy birthday and imdb." On the second page of the search results was his blog and after following the White Rabbit, I found my self immersed for 40 minutes in his writing. Work grew small. His thoughts grew big.

When I saw your "testimonial" for him as E.Jacobs, Mother, I thought it funny because it's something I would do. It's my mother who supports my creative endeavors even when my 9-5 doesn't. Thank you, moms everywhere, who nurture the dreamers, poets, readers, writers and other artists. I see where he gets his gifts. You have plenty to share.

The fact that you are an English teacher, a "Book Woman," an AP instructor and a fan of Tim O'Brien is another reason why I stopped to comment. I have benefited from contact with all of those roles. I am the reader and the writer today because of my language arts and English professors. I am a complete stranger to you but thanks to the wonderland of the Internet I found kindred spirits. I'll be sure to check out your Examiner peice.

Carry on with kind regards,

Johleen

PS: I was a member of the Washington, DC chapter of the WNBA (Women's National Book Association) in 2005-2006 before I moved to Florida. I recommend you check it out for the opportunity to support books & literacy, find writers' community and network. http://wnba-books.org/wash/

[Dr. Jacobs]

Hi Johleen,
Thanks for reading my son's blog, and for identifying with my role as parent and mentor. I'm glad to hear that as a writer you have fond thoughts of your English teachers!

[evelyn]

hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii again!!!!!!!!!!! I'm glad you still think about us often. :P Summer is so boring for me. Getting a job is god-knows-how hard. My UVA orientation isn't until the end of July, and if I don't get a job now, my parents are on my butt about it 24/7. I can't live like this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I wish I can leave this place nd DO SOMETHING with my summer. *sigh* What are you up to? Are you going to travel soon? I think I'm going to use your blog to communicate instead of your email because it's a lot easier this way. :P

[David M]

I suspect that the transition is more difficult than you lead us to believe. . . its not just the physical things that the soldiers carried, but the emotional and mental ones as well. . . you can clean out an office, but you can't clean out the memories. . . see you next year!

[Erica]

David, you are completely right, there is no easy transition. Student AP scores are rolling in now--and some are emailing me, and I'm aware it may be the last time I ever hear from them. But that's the nature of teaching, whether high school or college. Old students are replaced by new, and most of the old memories fade as new ones are made. It's actually a pretty great profession, isn't it?