Time Enough for Heinlein

There are books that we treasure. There are books that live in our minds. There are books that shape our identities. For me, the writing of Robert A. Heinlein, but especially Time Enough for Love and Stranger in a Strange Land were formative reads. I read them as a high school student and, time and again, I keep coming back to them. 

I have reread Stranger several times since high school, but recently, I reread Time Enough for Love for the first time in decades. I had forgotten about the novel’s almost uncomfortable exploration of love taboos. What I remembered strongly were two other aspects of the novel: The character and wisdom of the main character, Lazarus Long, and his wonderful list of aphorisms in his “notebooks.” 

I have quoted these aphorisms from memory ever since. I have posted them on my dorm room door in college and used them as sample belief statements in my Sunday school class. One, in particular, formed the basis of final exam essay question, and another has justified adjourning congregational committee meetings for more than two decades! I will list some of these wonderful, wise, and clever statements a little later. 

Time Enough For Love argues that, “The more you love, the more you can love — and the more intensely you love. Nor is there any limit on how many you can love. If a person had time enough, he could love all of that majority who are decent and just.”

That majority includes everyone – and this book explores that in-depth. Everyone means that you could love, passionately and sexually, the people our society says you can only love in a platonic non-physical way: your family! I had forgotten how this novel took the idea that long-lived people might eventually fall in “Eros” love with their children, siblings, and parents. In fact, Heinlein’s lengthy and obsessive exploration of our main character’s affair with his own mother was at times both excruciating and cringe-worthy. It made the point – and then kept making it. 

What stuck with me as a teenager was not the incestual nature of the book, but the wisdom the oldest man alive shared. His thoughts about love, for sure, but also about religion, politics, and plain old not-so-common sense. 

So here are only a few of the wonderful aphorisms from “The Notebooks of Lazarus Long.” 

Heinlein was clearly a religious skeptic, another point that would have made this book a winner for teenaged (and later) me: 

“History does not record anywhere at any time a religion that has any rational basis. Religion is a crutch for people not strong enough to stand up to the unknown without help. But, like dandruff, most people do have a religion and spend time and money on it and seem to derive considerable pleasure from fiddling with it.”

“God is omnipotent, omniscient, and omnibenevolent-it says so right here on the label. If you have a mind capable of believing all three of these divine attributes simultaneously, I have a wonderful bargain for you. No checks, please. Cash and in small bills.”

“The most preposterous notion that H. Sapiens has ever dreamed up is that the Lord God of Creation, Shaper and Ruler of all the Universes, wants the saccharine adoration of His creatures, can be swayed by their prayers, and becomes petulant if He does not receive this flattery. Yet this absurd fantasy, without a shred of evidence to bolster it, pays all the expenses of the oldest, largest, and least productive industry in all of history.”

“Sin lies only in hurting other people unnecessarily. All other sins are invented nonsense. (Hurting yourself is not sinful - just stupid.)”

Several of Lazarus Long’s statements might be commentary on today’s political issues: 

“What are the facts? Again and again and again-what are the facts? Shun wishful thinking, ignore divine revelation, forget what “the stars foretell,” avoid opinion, care not what the neighbors think, never mind the unguessable “verdict of history”--what are the facts, and to how many decimal places? You pilot always into an unknown future; facts are your single clue. Get the facts!”

“Does history record any case in which the majority was right?”

“A generation which ignores history has no past—and no future.”

“The two highest achievements of the human mind are the twin concepts of “loyalty” and “duty.” Whenever these twin concepts fall into disrepute--get out of there fast. You may possibly save yourself, but it is too late to save that society. It is doomed.”

“Never underestimate the power of human stupidity!”

Most of the wonderful aphorisms are just plain good advice:

“Everything in excess! To enjoy the flavor of life, take big bites. Moderation is for monks.”

“Yield to temptation, it may not pass your way again.”

“If you don’t like yourself, you can’t like other people.”

“A motion to adjourn is always in order.”

“Do not handicap your children by making their lives easy.”

“Sovereign ingredient for a happy marriage: Pay cash or do without. Interest charges not only eat up a household budget; awareness of debt eats up domestic felicity.”

“Another ingredient for a happy marriage: Budget the luxuries first!”

“To stay young requires unceasing cultivation of the ability to unlearn old falsehoods.”

“Money is truthful. If a man speaks of his honor, make him pay cash.”

“Anything free is worth what you pay for it.”

“Pessimist by policy, optimist by temperament--it is possible to be both. How? By never taking an unnecessary chance and by minimizing risks you can’t avoid. This permits you to play the game happily, untroubled by the certainty of the outcome.”

There is no doubt that some of Heinlein’s writing has not aged well. Many of his ideas were chauvinistic and sexist. His portrayal of women is deeply problematic. Yet, unlike some of the other important writers of the golden age of science fiction, his work is still engagingly readable and shockingly relevant. 

That may be why, once I finish reading the Hugo nominees, I am going to read The Cat Who Walks Through Walls! 

Last In Line

Over the course of more than three decades, I have developed a long list of sayings and “Hirschisms” that become a kind of classroom script. As I reach the end of my teaching career, I have been trying to collect and explore them here. I promise that this is the last (and tenth) of my “line” posts.

When I was student teaching, my supervising teacher told me that she really liked my “shut up substitute.” I wasn’t sure what she meant. She clarified that I used the word, “Focus” when she was thinking, “shut up.” Recently one of my students said that I never yell, instead, I say, “Stay with me.” I guess that is my latest shut up substitute.

Frankly, I don’t have kids writing on paper that much anymore. Most of our writing is on the computer. However, for years it drove me crazy that kids would come to class without a pen or pencil! So I started to collect all the pens and pencils that were left in the room or in the hall and put them in a jar in the room for these hapless kids without them. The jar was called “the land of lost writing implements” and a few years ago a few wonderful seniors actually labeled a jar with that title and gave it to me.

I will joke with kids a lot. When a student blurts out a right answer, I may retort, “What they say about you just isn’t true!” As kids are laughing and engaged in the activity, I will echo my Freshman English teacher who jokingly said, “No fun allowed! No fun in English class!”

Students will raise their hands and sometimes state that they have a “stupid” question. I will let them know that is fine by telling them, “All questions are stupid questions.”

When students do something not so good or make an unforgivable error (for example, there instead of their), I will make a kind of laughing face and say, “I show you my teeth” but I don’t growl or bite. Usually.

Kids will come in late with a pass from another teacher. While many teachers will sign their names, for some reason, P.E. teachers often just note that they were late from ‘gym’. I tell kids that I know Gym or Jim. Jim Class. But I add that I like his brother better: Art.

Students and teachers will return from an illness and blame a family member: my sister gave it to me! I always shake my head and say, “That’s how it is in families; whatever we get, we share.” I got it from Agnes!

When someone asks me if I am ready to go back to school or ready for spring break or ready for anything, I reply, “If I am not ready, will I get more time? Ready or not!”

Kids don’t think that teachers are watching all the time. I see the flirting and posturing, the budding relationships forming in class. My former student Christine reminds me that I would tell kids to “put the hormones on hold” when I needed them to stop being so adolescent!

Then there are those students who need more than their fair share of my attention. Sometimes, classes get impatient with these kids (and sometimes I do, too). However, I always reassure them that it is okay, because “I get paid extra to have this one in my class.”

Kids often bring food into class, and sometimes it is even healthy food. When an apple comes in, I will sometimes turn into the wicked stepmother and comment that they are eating, “a nice juicy apple dearie” Or I’ll ask, “You didn’t take that apple from that naked lady by the tree, did you?”

As I was preparing to write this series of posts, I asked my former students on Facebook what they remembered. Mike remembered the sign over the clock in my classroom: “Time to Take Notes.” I really wanted to cover the clock completely, but the teacher with whom I shared the room did not wear a watch!

Joe remembered my stupid thesis formula. It is one of those things I say so often that it is my hope that every student remembers it. When I am teaching the concept of thesis to Freshman, I will often stick my head into the hall and pull in any former student walking past. Most of the time, they immediately say, “The table is pretty and brightens the whole room.”

I have always been more of a Macintosh computer person than a Windows guy. For a long time, all the computers in our building ran Microsoft software. Jeremy remembered that I referred to my laptop as a “Piece of C.”

On open house nights, I would tell parents that education could not happen without photocopied handouts as I gave them my piece of paper at the door.

There are more. I have not covered them all because it would take far too long. This post is already much longer than it should be. As usual, I have gone on too long.

So this is the end of the lines!

Over the Line

I have been writing about the things I say all the time: my lines or Hirschisms or whatever you want to call them. I have talked about silly lines, lines that involve word play, and how I reply to my pet-peeve of asking to go to the bathroom. I have lines for leaving the room, entering the room, and greeting people in the hallways. There are some lines that don't easily fit into any categories. Here is my second to last post about my classroom sayings. 

My former student Lucas reminded me that when I send a class off into small groups or to an activity out of our chairs, I often send kids off with a variation of Mork’s old line, “fly little birds be free!” When I need to bring them back to the large group, I riff on children’s playground games by calling out, “Red rover, red over” or “ally, ally, all come free!”

If, while they are in those small groups or partnerships, they should talk to another group or someone else’s partner, I jump in and tell them, “No group adultery! Don’t play around with someone else’s partners!”

As I greet a former student or anyone who has come back for a visit, I often reference an apocryphal 50s B SF movie: Return of the Thing that Went Away! Of course, anything that returns had to go away.

Often in class we read together. Reading for me is a kind of religious experience, so I will ask kids to “open your prayer book to page…” Sometimes I even add, “we’ll begin where is says, ‘Congregation:’”

When something falls during class, and it is usually a water bottle making a loud clanking sound, I will thank the student for testing gravity and tell them that they can rest easy because it is still working.

Kids have a tendency to pull their hands into their sleeves making them look handless. This is a good opportunity for some puns. I look at them in alarm and ask, “Where are your hands? Are you handicapped? Can I lend you a hand? Give you a hand? Hand it to you? Are you harder to handle?” Groans ensue and hands come out!

Similarly, I have kids every year who, like their two or three-year-old selves, seem to put all sorts of things that are not food into their mouths. This might be the drawstrings on their hoods, pencils and pens or pen caps, fingers, or other classroom materials. I often admonish them by saying, “Take that out of your mouth, you don’t know where that mouth has been!”

Students are so used to seeing examples of work that they routinely ask to see what the assignment looks like before they have to do it. That is a reasonable request. So whenever I am about to present them with such an example, I purse my lips, suck in my cheeks, and walk toe to heal across the room. Here comes the model.

I try to help my students learn about humor and how to tell a good joke. I teach them the basic three-part joke formula early in the year when I am showing them my model diagnostic assignment. I invite them to copy my assignment by using the line, “Imitation is the second most sincere form of flattery…” I repeat the set up line until someone (anyone!) provides me with a straight line: “What’s the first most sincere type of flattery?” Punch line: “Cash.”

Then there are those moments when I ask a question and every student in the room gives me the “you must be an alien” look. They stare back with vacant eyes that say, “We have no idea what you are talking about.” I used to use the line, “I don’t know George, something about the rabbits?” but since we have stopped teaching Of Mice and Men, that reference only gets the same reply.

As I have written before, I want kids to stay in the room. Next to “can I go to the bathroom,” my least favorite interruption is “can I go get a drink?” I always say, “yes, and get me one, too.” I always need it and never get it.

Hopefully, students learn to plan ahead before they miss class. I try to train them to be proactive, and to never ask, “Am I going to miss anything?” So when they say, “I am not going to be here tomorrow, “ I answer, “Good! I mean, oh, well. You know how to find out what we did – right?”

I have been teaching for more than thirty years, so my script is long and complex. I am certain that I have forgotten as many lines as I have described. I have one more post about my “Hirschisms” and I promise, it will be my last line!

Bye Lines

I am not a fan of goodbye. I am not a fan of letting go. I suppose my classroom would be stuffed if no one ever graduated or moved on, but I wouldn’t mind. Elementary schools sometimes “loop” kids by having them stay in the same classroom with the same teacher for multiple years. Sounds like a good idea to me!

However, exits are as important as entrances. The fact that our time together is limited makes it all the more valuable. We used to talk about bell-to-bell teaching. I start before the bell. As soon as I have a quorum of the class, I start. Kids learn to get to class quickly and that I am not going to waste their time. They get their money’s worth with me!

I am eager to start class. My colleagues in the English department know when I am off to class because I have a series of exit lines as I leave the office and head for the classroom.  My dear former colleague and friend Emily noted that I often borrow from that old commercial and exit with, “Time to make the doughnuts!” If the class is particularly challenging (maybe freshmen at the end of the day), I may note I am “off to fight the wars.”

One of my colleagues came back to school on a Monday excited because he had seen a production of Wonderful Town and figured out where I got the exit line, “Why, oh, why, oh, did I ever leave Ohio!” For clarification, I have never lived in Ohio.

More often, though, my exits to class have a different tone. I borrow from the Olympics and say, “Better, higher, stronger, faster” and run out. More recently, I find I am leaving the office empty and my only “line” is the locking of the door.

I get to the classroom early. I like to greet students by name as they enter. The feeling tone of the classroom is important and I try to set it right away!  Sometimes, if a student is late and arrives with a pass, I treat them as if they are the royal messenger at the end of A Three Penny Opera arriving on horseback to save the hero from the gallows and sing to them, “Hark who comes? A royal messenger riding comes!” I take the paper as if it is, in fact, a reprieve from the Queen! It never is, by the way, it is just a pass.

If a student gets to class just as the bell is ringing and has just managed to avoid being tardy, I will go back to my old spoonerisms and say that they arrived in the tick of nime!

Not that long ago, before every student carried around their own Chromebook laptop computer, we would have to leave class and head to a special room to use banks of desktop computers. Then I would borrow from a very different play and invite the students to “come down to the lab, and see what’s on the slab!” I would find out if any of them knew my reference and say, “I see you shiver with antici----”  I have only had two students who knew what I was talking about. I guess I should expect that. (SAY IT)  ---pation!

Every so often, students will ask, “When is this class over?” No! No, that isn’t the way I want you to think about it at all. While I will admit that there are times I wish classes would be shorter (sometimes that end of the day freshman group), most of the time, I find that the end of class surprises me. Then I borrow from Shari Lewis and adapt her song to be, “This is the class that never ends, it goes on and on my friend…” And if students start to put their materials in their backpacks prematurely, I do my reinterpretation of the old David Soul song, “Don’t pack up on me, baby!”

Of course, all my students know my replacement for “you are dismissed.” I always thank them at the end of class in the manner of flight attendants when the plane has landed, “Thank you for flying Science Fiction” or “Thank you for flying Theatre” and then they are free to get their bags and phones, and move out to the jet-way or hallway or wherever.

The goodbye I like the least is when my students graduate. I try to find the words to wish my senior students farewell. For my former Freshman English students, I have a special goodbye: On their second day of high school, I ask them to write about their first day of high school in detail. We put that piece of writing in an envelope and I mail it to them so they receive close to their last day of school – and I include a note from me wishing them goodbye as well.

And now, as I am preparing to say goodbye to all of my students and colleagues, I am struggling. None of these lines say works for this situation. I am not sure that I have words to express how odd it is to part from these wonderful students, extraordinary colleagues, and this magnificent school. Stay tuned; I am writing!

Lines for the Bathroom

A student’s arm goes up in the air. I am excited! We are in the middle of a discussion and I am thrilled that this student is about to contribute. The class is engaged and listening to each other. Learning is happening!

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

The entire momentum of the conversation is destroyed. The direction of the discussion is changed. There are giggles. Any discussion of potty brings some level of laughter. One of my regular lines is that all humor comes from body fluids and especially with younger students this is very true.

Although some teachers may leave the classroom to go to the bathroom, I cannot justify this. Aside from the liability issue, what if something should happen while I was gone, our time together is simply too precious to waste (on waste  - another line).

There is no doubt that there are times when a student (or an adult) has to leave the room to go to the bathroom. I tell students not to ask permission to leave if they have an emergency. If they are about to throw up, get to the bathroom quickly!

Which raises the question of why should they ask permission to leave at all? The last few years students may simply leave when they want without any announcements. I lay some simple ground rules: if you need to go, go. Do not disrupt the class activities; don’t make a regular habit of going to the bathroom during class. Leaving class, for any reason, should be an usual occurrence.

Yet, it doesn’t work this way. I can predict both who will leave for the bathroom and often when. Students don’t go to the “bathroom.” Many of them go elsewhere. They make calls on their phones. On a few occasion, I have used the school’s cameras to find out where they really went and what really happened.

Students leave the room because they are bored, or they have a need to call home, or want to get a snack, or have actually made a plan to meet someone. There are many, perhaps a majority, who really do need to go to the bathroom or get a sip of water.

I have never worked in the corporate world, but I can’t imagine someone stopping a meeting or work activity to go to the bathroom. If such a thing occurs, I would hope it would be unusual; I am expecting an important call, I am ill, or there are special issues.

In their defense, students have limited time to go to the bathroom. They have short lunch periods and only five minutes to go from class to another. However, teachers are in a similar position. A little planning goes a long way. While one can’t always plan ahead, again, hopefully, that is the exception.

So perhaps my bathroom lines are a little passive aggressive. I don’t want students to leave. I use one of the oldest ones in the book, “Can I go to the bathroom?” I hope you can. What if you couldn’t! Eww! That would be uncomfortable!

Students ask if they can go to the bathroom quickly. I often reply that I will not time them so I won’t know how fast they go. I think about the old Monty Python Silly Olympics sketch with the marathon for the incontinent.

When the student who leaves regularly requests to leave the room, I sometimes respond that I was just about to suggest that they go or I say, “you are full of it.” Yup, that is what I am saying.

Sometimes, the request to go to the bathroom is simply answered with a shocked, “Not here!”

My favorite moment like this was when a student raised his hand, stopped the discussion and said, “May I go to the bathroom and fill my water bottle.” The whole class took a pause and then several people went, “Yuck!”

When you have to go, you have to go, no doubt about that. When I am a student in class or when I am in a meeting, I wait. I don’t disrupt or derail an activity by making a dramatic exit to the bathroom – and I really don’t want to miss anything.

This is probably an issue as old as schools, teachers, and students themselves: the perpetual problem of kids on the can!