Truth Be Told

Recently, a former friend of mine published a memoir that included recollections of the small town we grew up in. There were several aspects of it that made me bristle and say, "Hey! That's not how I remember it!"

For example, Former Friend claimed that at our Catholic high school, there was only one single-session sex ed class a year, and it was taught by our gym teacher. But although it is true that they didn't really teach us much about "safe sex," what I also remember is that our religion teachers taught sex ed. I remember that sex ed occurred a lot more often than once a year, probably because they were afraid that we hormonal teenagers would be "corrupted" by the sin of premarital sex. (Little did they know that a lot of the students' minds had already been corrupted. If they had known, I can totally imagine the religion teachers shaking their heads sorrowfully while saying that we were going to go to hell unless we repented and the priests throwing holy water at us or something.)

(Side note: Although I am still a practicing Catholic and believe in many of its core principles, such as the Golden Rule of treating other people with kindness and compassion, there are several other things about the Church that I strongly disagree with.)

I don't remember our gym teacher teaching us sex ed, although he may have taught it to Former Friend and their classmates (Former Friend was in a different grade). I do remember that when the gym teacher taught us how to lift weights, he stood over us and yelled, "You're WEAK! Is that all you can benchpress, WEAKLING?" I also remember wishing I could say, "Who are you calling a weakling? Take THAT!" And then I'd karate kick him in the face.

Former Friend's memoir made me think about what might happen if I ever publish my work-in-progress, a book-length memoir titled Obsessions of a Workaholic. Since it's not a novel, I can't say, "It's fiction, and it's not based on you, of course," if someone from my life were to read it and get upset by my depiction of him or her. Everything that I've described in this blog really did happen, but I've had to alter the descriptions of some of the situations and/or people in order to protect their identities and my own.

That makes me wonder how much "altering" I'll need to do in my book. Since teaching has been such an important part of my life, naturally there are several chapters about my work as a teacher. But I have to be very careful about what I write, especially when it comes to the students.

Many of my students are good students who work hard, are polite and respectful to me and their classmates, and are dedicated to earning good grades and learning as much as they can while they are in college. Some of them have truly inspired me because of the writing they produced in my class or because of what they confided in me about their dreams for the future, which made me hope that all of their dreams would come true.

But as any teacher can relate, every year there is always a small, select group of students who are the complete opposite: the ones who are hostile and disrespectful, or the ones who believe they "deserve" A's just for showing up to class. These students are why my hair started turning white the first year I started teaching, and they are also why I always keep a bottle of Tylenol in my office at school.

Since I'm still working on the first draft, I've been writing down all the details that I can remember, everything from the student who confided in me about what it was like to be a transgender teenager in a community that believes people like them are mentally ill, to the student whose verbal attacks almost drove me to tears in front of one of the first classes I ever taught, causing several of the other students to feel sorry for me and apologize to me for that student's behavior after class was over.

I recently read a book titled Waiter's Rant, written by Steve Dublanica, who wrote about his experiences as a waiter at a fancy restaurant that the rich and famous dined at. His book was based on his blog, where he initially wrote under the pseudonym the Waiter. Once he revealed his true identity, he admitted that he'd never be able to get another restaurant job because of what he wrote. Fortunately for him, his book became a New York Times best-seller and he didn't have to wait tables anymore after it was published.

But the difference between him and me is that he didn't want to be a waiter until he retired, whereas I know that I want to spend my life as a writer AND a teacher. The problem is, if I write the whole truth and nothing but the truth about my former students, especially the ones who gave me the most problems, I could lose my job. Teachers are held to a different standard. Academia is a small world, and it's not just competitive, it's cutthroat because there are way too many people with PhDs and not enough jobs. I am a college professor, but I am untenured, which means that I don't have the job security that tenured professors have. If I lost my job, there would literally be hundreds of people lined up who would be more than happy to take my place.

This generation of students in particular is the one known for their "microaggressions" and demands for "trigger warnings" in their curriculum. Most of the students I've come across over the years are not like them, but there are nevertheless a few others I've read about in the news (as well as ones I've encountered in my own classes) who claimed that they were "offended" by things that their teachers said or wrote and then launched campaigns to destroy those teachers' careers and reputations, driving them out of their schools, and in some cases, out of education altogether. Sometimes, the teachers really did say offensive things, but in other cases, they didn't, but were nevertheless interpreted as such. Either way, I don't think that any of them deserved to be the target of hateful harassment campaigns.

Although I've achieved several of my academic and professional goals, I still have other goals. And I'm afraid that if this memoir did get published, I could lose everything I've worked for and everything I'm still working for if I revealed too many details about certain students.

I thought that if this book does get published, I could use my pseudonym: Neurotic Workaholic. But if and when I do become a published writer, I'd like to see my real name printed on my story, and if and when that happens, I'll reveal it on this blog. That's the thing about this blog: I can be more candid here because almost no one in my offline life knows that I'm the one writing this blog. It's different when it's a published book or short story.

For now, I've decided to follow Anne Lamott's advice about writing the "bad" first draft by including everything that I can remember, and I'll go back and edit it once I finish the first draft. I also try to remember what I've learned from other creative nonfiction writers I've read and heard speak: that what you write in creative nonfiction doesn't necessarily have to be 100% factual, as long as the core of what you're saying is true. David Sedaris, after all, is a creative nonfiction writer, but even he "embellishes" the truth about what happened. Dave Barry's hilarious columns are funny partly because he exaggerates a lot of things.

I think that one possible solution is that rather than describe the problem behavior of specific students, I could describe the problem behavior of a range of students, like the ones who sit in the back of the classroom, listen to music on their phones (even after I tell them to take off their headphones, they'll protest by saying, "But the music isn't even that loud!" And then I make a mental note to take some Tylenol right after class), and tune me out for weeks until they get their grades back. Then they blame ME when they don't get A's, and I also make a mental note to get my hair dyed to cover the white hair that is literally sprouting from my head at that moment. That might be less controversial than describing specific students.

What about you? Do you write creative nonfiction? If you do, how do you write about the "problematic" people you've encountered in your life? What do you think of memoirists who "embroider" the truth, as the writer Ruth Reichl admitted doing in her memoirs? (I love her books, regardless.)

Facebook's Version, or Why I Bought a Selfie Stick

I recently did something that I vowed that I would never do. I joined Facebook.

When Facebook first came out, I was already in my mid-twenties and working three jobs by then, so I had neither the time or the interest to join the site. Maybe if I had been a few years younger and enjoyed taking dozens of pictures of myself, posing with a pout and tight clothes in front of my bathroom mirror, I would have joined.

Side note: I'd love to friend all of you on Facebook, but I prefer not to reveal my real identity on this blog. Also, I like having a secret online alter ego, kind of like Batman except without the cool car and the superhuman strength (unless you count obsessiveness as a super power, in which case I AM Batman).

Also, based on what I've heard, it always seemed like there was a lot of Facebook drama, with people saying stuff like, "Why does your relationship status still say 'single'? Do you not care about me at all?" or "They're still mad at me because I unfriended them, but it's like, I don't want to know what they're having for lunch every day! That's what Instagram is for!"

But I finally decided to join because most of my friends in Small Town are on it, and they often organize parties and other get-togethers through Facebook. The only way I would find out about any of these events was if they invited me or if I texted them to find out which bar we were meeting at. I always felt like I was out of the loop.

Speaking of feeling out of the loop, one of the first things I saw on Facebook was New Girl's page. She'd posted pictures of the big Christmas party she hosted recently, and tagged several of my friends, who were invited. I know that it's her party, and she has the right to invite or exclude whoever she wants. But I must admit that it did hurt to see pictures of practically everyone in our social circle at the party and to know that she deliberately excluded me. (See what I mean? Drama.) That's why I didn't even try to "friend" her online. I already tried that offline and it didn't end so well.

Seeing those pictures made me feel like I was the high school wallflower all over again. I can't say anything about it to Small Town Guy, though, because although they're not dating, they are close friends and his picture was all over her page.

Speaking of high school, I sent friend requests to a couple of old high school friends. It was interesting to find out what they'd been up to since graduation. But then several other people from high school sent me friend requests. I realized too late that my profile would show up on those other people's Facebook pages, as well as the "people you may know" list.

Although I accepted their requests, one of the other reasons I didn't join this site before was because I didn't want anyone I went to school with to see me, at least not until I was thinner, more successful, and married to an Abercrombie and Fitch model.

When I looked at my old friends and classmates' pages, I was struck by how "grownup" everyone looked. True, it had been more than seventeen years since we'd seen each other (God, that makes me feel old.). But it was more than that. They posted what I think of as the Facebook version of their lives, with their beautiful wedding portraits and pictures of their smiling children. Their updates included posts about parenting, breastfeeding, and the best place to buy a mattress.

While all those other people were traveling around the world, getting married, and having children, I was working, attending graduate school, and yelling at my loud neighbors (the last time I asked them to keep it down was at 2 A.M. on a Wednesday night. They said, "Oh, are you sleeping right now?" And I was all, "YES! Why aren't YOU?")

That's partly I have few recent pictures of myself. The other reason is I don't like the way I look in pictures. My lack of pictures made me feel inadequate, like I had less to show for my life than theirs. I know that's not true, because I've accomplished and experienced a lot of things too. It's just that I spent more time documenting these things through writing than through pictures, and I have a stack of journals and blog posts to prove it. That's why I like Twitter and blogging better, because there's no pressure to post pictures; the point is to express yourself through words.

I bought a selfie stick, though I was embarrassed to ask the people at the store if they sold any. I had trouble using it; I kept accidentally taking pictures of the side of my face or forehead, and my arm got tired holding it up. I only managed to get one decent picture of myself. Then I discovered the "filter" option, and I ended up looking like a cast member for The Real Housewives. How do Millennials do this all the time?

What about you? What do you think of Facebook? If you're on the site, did you ever deal with any drama with friend requests or Facebook posts?

A Gap Year

When I heard that Malia Obama was planning to take a gap year before she went to college, I thought, More Millennials should be like her.

I've taught college students for a long time now. Unfortunately, some of them are not ready for college. To high school graduates, here are some signs that you're not ready for college yet:

1. You think that punctuality and attendance should be optional.

2. You spend more time staring at your cell phone than at your textbooks.

3. You keep your headphones on during class and then, when your teacher tells you to take them out, you say, "Why? Is the volume bothering anyone?"

4. You let your parents complain to your teacher about your grades or about the fact that you were penalized for breaking one (or more) of your teacher's rules.

5. You snore in class on a regular basis.

6. You say, "Hemingway/Shakespeare/Austen is so boring," after spending two hours "liking" posts and Tweets that say stuff like "Party like it's Friday" or "I love [insert pop icon's name here]!".

7. You think you're entitled to an A just because you showed up to class, which is the bare minimum.

8. You think it's okay to be absent for several weeks and then get upset when your teacher lowers your grade.

9. You spend the whole class time talking to your friends and then complain that you don't understand the material.

10. You say, "My printer/computer/roommate ate my homework," multiple times.

When students go to college before they're ready, they're more likely to feel stressed, overwhelmed, and unhappy. They struggle in their classes, and it's difficult for them to understand that their professors can't (and won't) help them with every single thing. Several of them get low grades, get suspended, or drop out of school altogether.

That's why I think some (though not all) students should take a gap year first. I don't think they should travel through Europe and expect their parents to pay for everything. They shouldn't sleep till noon all day and party all night.

Instead, they should get jobs, which may help them realize how important it is to work hard and continue their education. They should do volunteer work, so that they'll understand how important it is to help people. They should do research on the kinds of careers that they want to pursue, so that they won't graduate without any idea of what to do with their degree. They should take a couple classes at community colleges, in order to see what college life (and professors' expectations) is like before they commit to it full-time.

I think if they did that, they would be more likely to do well in college. Then professors like me would be less likely to end every workday by putting our hands to our faces and screaming like Macaulay Culkin did in Home Alone.

What about you? Did you take a gap year before you went to college? If you didn't, what would you have done if you had taken a gap year?