Page 651 - WhyAsInY

BaCK to sCHool
The assignments set the agenda, but there was no script. It was just them and me, and that’s what I enjoyed: dialogue and quick or unexpected reaction, or both. I had always joked about my ambition to be a comic, but I lacked the courage to take the kind of risks that that entailed. Here was my opportunity, and, while I took very seriously my obligation to convey what I believed the students needed, there were few obstacles to my impulse to use humor as one of the tools.
I had a relatively decent start: I had been told that in this new world of e-mail, students should be capable of communicating with teachers when the need arose. (As it turns out, the need arose for the same stu- dents time after time; it transpires that some who missed class or were confused by anything at all felt that they were entitled to use me as a private tutor—and, like a fool, I usually satisfied their need.) Accord- ingly, it was incumbent upon professors to provide their e-mail address to their young scholars. This presented an opportunity to set the tone as early as possible. Thus, I timed my entry into the classroom for the first session so that I would come in after most students were already seated. I then turned my back to the class, and, using a black marker on the whiteboard (not white chalk on the blackboard of my youth), I carefully wrote:
Real Estate Finance Yaverbaum
harvey@yaverbaum.org
There was a slight pause as I finished putting the microscopic e-mail address on the board, and then came the laughter that follows recogni- tion. So, I was off to the races. (I quickly got used to being called “professor,” although the first few times that it happened in the hall, I looked over my shoulder to find out which member of the faculty was standing behind me.)
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