Thanks for the men and women who stand up in front of classrooms every day–or most days–and talk about books. About plot and characters and and theme and denouement. And whatever else (it’s been a long time, God. You remember better than I what they talk about).
Thank you that they make us feel and understand, empathize and wonder. Thank you that they force us to read what we’d never have picked up–and introduce to us to stories we can’t put down. Thank you for their love of literature–and their willingness to share that love. Even to those (especially to those) who don’t get it
Thank you for the magic and mystery and miracles that happen in those places as books are discussed. Thank you for your presence in those holy places–even where it goes unrecogized. Thank you for whispering through the pages of every work of literature, every poem, every essay. For being the Word.
So be with English teachers as they wrap up this semester, as they try to keep students focused and reading and writing. Be with them as they try to keep focused and reading and grading. And if there’s a typo or a grammar or usage eff-up in this post, grant them grace toward me.