What would bell hooks do?

In what feels like a Christmas miracle in August, I have been offered a college English class to teach this fall. Although only finding this out about 3 weeks ago and being faced with a course that in some ways is a little daunting, I’m feeling remarkably sane and calm about it all. Maybe I’m completely deluded, but I actually believe that I’m good at teaching.

And yet, there is always that little bit of lingering doubt. I’ve never taught at a community college before. I’ve been a university T.A., I’ve taught ESL classes at private schools in Montreal, and I’m currently a volunteer literacy tutor, but actually being responsible for a real college class that people need to pass in order to move forward with their career goals—I really need to not make a big mess of this.

I think the real worry is attached to my pedagogical approach. A few days ago, I was looking over bell hooks’ Teaching to Transgress, which I’d read a couple of years ago, and I realized that this is it. It’s time to put all that theory into practice. It’s time to walk the walk. And I am so scared. I have to admit that most of my own experiences as a student can best be described as traditional. Despite my damnedest efforts to resist the sometimes suffocating strictures of academia, in the end, I studied a heck of a lot of the English literary canon and sat through countless classes where the professor, voice of authority, talked while the rest of us listened and madly jotted down nuggets of wisdom. In my fourth year as an undergraduate, I had one professor who really shook things up by forcing us to actively participate in our education. And while it made some of us feel uneasy at times because we were being dragged out of the comfortable little nooks we’d carved out for ourselves in every other classroom we’d ever sat in, it sure did work. I learned a ton in that class and I really enjoyed the work I did.

I wonder too whether all of this traditional authoritarianism in the classroom is rooted in the teacher’s fear of losing control of what’s going on, as though allowing your learners to play an active role in how things happen and to speak up about what they really think and feel is going to ultimately lead to pandemonium. And then I suppose there is also the novice professor’s fear of having to dejectedly confront the seasoned professors’ I-told-you-so faces, as though one should never have even considered going against the grain.

But even though entering the terrain of transformative pedagogy is a little bit frightening, I do actually believe that it’s what will work best for me and for my learners. I do think that I need to allow my learners to see me as a person, to share my personal narratives just as I expect them to share theirs, and to let them really work at learning rather than just sitting and trying to absorb through osmosis.

I guess we’ll see on Tuesday how I feel after I’ve met these 27 fresh faces. I know I have a lot to learn about this whole teaching business, but I figure that if I don’t ever take the risk and do things that are scary but potentially and incredibly transformative, then I’ll just never know. And so, as best I can, I’m going to find out.

“Which way to the waffle cart?” or how I ate my way through Portland, Oregon

If you’re planning on visiting Portland, Oregon, you’d be wise to follow this handy piece of advice: make sure to arrive on an empty stomach. This is a city chock full of gastronomic delights. I’m not sure that my friends and I intended for it to go this way, but our trip ended up being centered on edible indulgences of every kind. While we weren’t eating (i.e., during the time that our bodies demanded time for digestion), we distracted ourselves with shopping and meandering about. Portland has lovely little neighbourhoods and adorable residential streets. I felt at home there almost immediately.

Even though I only visited Portland for 3½ days, I’ve now developed a special fondness for this west coast metropolis. It is the city where you will find a plethora of Barack Obama signs on people’s lawns, where Powell’s Books offers more reading material than the heart can ever desire, and where tattooed bodies seem to be the norm. Portland is home to Bitch Magazine, and, according to my friend M.C., is also the most vegan-friendly city in the grand old U.S. of A. If I could, I’d pick up and move there in a heartbeat.

My first meal in Portland was at The Farm Café where I dined on a blue cheese, sweet corn and cherry tomato risotto--possibly the best risotto I’ve ever had. So far, so good.

Later that night, at around midnight, we’d just come out of a Jesus and Mary Chain show and needed a sinful late-night snack. Looks like it might be time to check out Voodoo Doughnuts, whose slogan is “The magic is in the hole.” This place puts conventional doughnut shops to shame, and vegans will be happy to hear that they have a variety of vegan doughnuts available! I don’t usually eat doughnuts, but seeing as this place is a Portland institution, I indulged and ordered two. (Let’s call it doughnut research, folks.) The first was a chocolate doughnut with pink marshmallow icing and a blob of creamy peanut butter on top. Delicious. The second, and by far the better of the two, was a chocolate-covered doughnut topped with crushed Oreos and drizzled with peanut butter. I was in doughnut heaven. Definitely the bestest doughnut I’ve ever had in my entire life, hands down, no contest. And, best of all, if you’re planning on getting married, you can have your wedding ceremony at Voodoo Doughnuts. I think during a post-double-doughnut, sugar-induced stupor, even I could be convinced to get hitched at the Voodoo Doughnut digs.

Over the next few days, we continued to eat. Stuffing your face is made especially easy in Portland by the presence of tempting street food. The city is dotted with various carts that offer sundry edibles for your dining pleasure. Turn a corner and you may be greeted by a milkshake cart, a Belgian fries and poutine cart, or a waffle cart. The waffle cart, our breakfast stop on Day 3, was unforgettable. I ordered the s’more waffle, which is filled with Nutella and marshmallow fluff. This particular waffle is sure to put you in a sugar coma, so for those who are looking for something a little less sweet, I’d recommend the cheese and sausage option or perhaps peanut butter and jam.

If you’re a beer aficionado, you must visit the Lucky Labrador Brew Pub. It’s not a fancy or particularly impressive place, but this microbrewery offers a six-beer sampler, perfect for those curious or indecisive types. And dogs are welcome, too (although they may have trouble getting served). If you want to combine beer-drinking with movie-watching, most of Portland’s second-run cinemas have beer and pizza on the menu. Best idea ever.

Continuing with the theme of beverages (but this time those of the non-alcoholic variety), I highly recommend the thyme-infused iced tea at the Ace Hotel. Then you can sit in the air conditioned comfort of their chic lobby and watch random hipsters and other stylish folk mill around, which is exactly what I did. Ah, my crush on Portland will continue on.