BRUCE J. BERGERWriter
Teacher

This is a pleasurable task and one which I am now embarking on for the fourth time at American University. The course is called Lit 107, Creative Writing Across the Genres, and the idea is to give students exposure to the reading and writing of works in creative non-fiction, poetry, and fiction. The semester is divided roughly into thirds, one for each genre.

Three types of creative works contend (in my mind) for a place on my syllabus: (1) works so well-known and highly-praised over the years that they’re almost mandatory, as if in a compendium of the material one must have read to be considered well-read; (2) works that I just love, for whatever reason, so that in preparing for class and rereading these works I might find the maximum amount of pleasure; and (3) works I have written myself, some published and some not. It’s worth exploring why I think of the readings in this manner and giving examples of what I have included in each. Honestly, categories (1) and (2) substantially overlap, so I will now treat them as one category, i.e., category (1/2).

So, in category (1/2), for creative non-fiction, I have students read Annie Dillard’s “Seeing” and Jo Ann Beard’s “The Fourth State of Matter”; and in category (3) they read my essay “Door Knocking,” which relates my first experience going house-to-house in a political campaign.  For poetry, in category (1/2) they read Hecuba’s speech, in Trojan Women, over the dead body of her grandson, Astanax. Of course, they must also read Dylan Thomas’s “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night.” And, in category (3), I offer a variety of the favorite poems from my own pen, notably “To the Wooded Way,” which I wrote as a junior in high school and “Neely,” an ode to my granddaughter in prose poetry. Finally, in fiction, there are so many good stories that it’s hard to choose, but I always use Ambrose Bierce’s “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge.” And James Joyce’s “The Dead.” Although the purpose of the course is not principally to familiarize students with classics in the various genres – which is one reason I feel free to use my own work for pedagogic purposes – I can hardly not teach these. So that’s category (1/2) for fiction. From category (3), I often teach my story “Invitation Accepted,” a piece of metafiction where the author (Bruce) enters the story and encounters one of the key characters.

If choosing the material to read were the only objective of the class, life would be so much easier. The challenge, however, is to motivate students to work hard on their own creative work. My purpose is to help them build the creative cells in their brains. Unfortunately, generative AI is getting in the way, and the creative aspect of brains – if AI is unchecked – fades away. Students have to be motivated to want to learn, right? They have to care about the human, creative aspects of their brains, right? But how many have enrolled in the course for anything but these salutary reasons? How many will be there just because they needed something that starts at 9:45 am on Monday and Thursdays? How many are there because the university requires that they take some course in the “creative/aesthetic mode of thinking” but otherwise couldn’t care less? How many are there under the misimpression that a course in creative writing will be easy? When one counts all the students that are in the class for not the best reasons, will there be one or two left?

What I would like to do – what every professor would like to do – is to turn those students who enter the class with a great deal of skepticism to find, much to their surprise, that the subject matter does intrigue them. In the case of Creative Writing Across the Genres, that the students quickly come to care whether their creative abilities are being eaten away by modern technology, not the least of which is generative AI, and about how to prevent this irreparable damage to what makes them creative human beings. It’s a daunting task. Motivation ultimately must come from within. That 150 minutes per week I will have these students, for one semester, is only a small drop in the bucket, so to speak. I can do nothing about DNA, family, friends, other environmental factors save for those 150 minutes per week. Sometimes, it seems like trying to make the Titanic turn using a single oar. Well, maybe I exaggerate, but only by a little.

So I need to accept that I will not be able to “reach” every student. That reality doesn’t absolve me from trying to reach every student. If one were dissuaded from teaching because it is a difficult profession, we wouldn’t have teachers. Or, another way to look at it is this: if I can help one student get and stay on a creative track, I have succeeded. Tikkun Olam. There is no prescribed measure for leaving first fruits on the tree, for anyone willing to grasp.