Only Connect

Only connect! That was the whole of her sermon. Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its height. Live in fragments no longer. Only connect, and the beast and the monk, robbed of the isolation that is life to either, will die. -- E. M. Forster, Howards End

I took the last test of my undergraduate career in the English Building at the University of Illinois in Urbana, the most beautiful building on campus. As I walked up the concave marble steps of the red brick building, I ran into a professor for a different class I had had that spring. He asked where I was headed, and I told him I was on the way to take a final for my E. M. Forster class. He raised his index finger in the air and shouted, "Only connect!"

For what it's worth, I probably read more of the assignments in my Forster class than any other class in my undergrad. Generally speaking, there are two kinds of English majors: the kind who read everything, and the kind who read nothing. I was of the second variety. The fact of the matter is that most English classes at the college level have very subjective assessments, and it is not difficult to pass courses by attending class regularly, paying attention, and writing essays with supporting details from two pages of the books that you are supposed to be reading. Probably the most important and useful skill that I developed while in college was to be able to locate specific and useful information from large texts in a very short time. I became a pro at writing BS, but I didn't learn a thing.

Still, I think that most of my professors understood this. In fact, the man who taught my course on Forster, David Hirsch, was a relatively young associate professor, not too far from the college student experience himself, and one day during class he said, "I know that you guys aren't reading these books. I remember how it was to be a college student. You're busy. You've got other distractions in your life. And there just isn't time to read three novels in a week while having all of the other experiences that you want to have in college." As he said this, the entire class awoke from sleep. It was one of those rare moments of honesty that almost never occurs in American classrooms at any level. It's a kind of honesty I try to foster in my own classes.

He continued, "But I hope that one day you will return to these books. Maybe in 10 years, or 20 years, you will come back to these books and read them when you have time. If you do that, I will consider the time we've spent together as a success."

Now, some 15 years after graduating with a bachelor's degree in English Literature, I am feeling those books calling to me, and I am ready to read them.

Being an English teacher for the past decade or so has helped me to look more carefully at storytelling telling than I ever had as a student. I want to understand these stories myself, of course, but more so, I want to understand them for my students. I want to teach honestly, like my Dr. Hirsch did. I want my students to find the messages in the books that lie outside the instructor, outside the classroom, outside the curriculum or the text. Every moment is a snapshot of the message. Every book an avatar. Every person a mask on the face of god.

Recently, I met a boy who is facing one to five years in prison for selling MDMA. He's out on bond, awaiting sentencing. He's 21, and he doesn't know his dad. He's a beautiful soul who is searching for truth, for love. I'm not sure there's a difference. We met on Water Street in Kent Ohio when I approached his group of friends asking for directions to a bar. They told me to forget about the bar and to hang out with them, so I did. They took me to a campus restaurant that sells gyros, pizza, and beer, and I bought bought the five of us a pitcher of Bud Light for six bucks.

As we sat at the table, I asked them questions about the kind of music they listen to. Then I asked them what they thought of the Internet, and how they thought things might have changed by the time they get to be old guys. I asked them what they thought the purpose of life is. I asked them about their families. I asked them about their ambitions.

We shared a lot with each other. They shared their stories and I shared my attention. We were strangers, connecting over a cup of honesty. They invited me into their lives, and I received them into mine.

Before leaving, we connected to each other on Facebook, and we've corresponded a few times since our parting. Right now I am listening to music on YouTube that he recommended to me. When a person shares music with you, he's sharing a part of his soul. I am listening to this music as I type this. The music is flowing through me, into my fingers and onto this keyboard. Your eyes are seeing the music. You are connecting with me. I am connecting with him. We are connecting with each other.

The boy's name is David. He is going to be in prison for a while. If he's lucky, he may do just nine months. I told him that I would send him books. I told him I would write him letters. I want him to know that I'll be with him on the inside.

Dr. Hirsch, if you ever read this, know that you have grown in my heart since I finished that last test of my college career. For what it's worth, I liked you well enough as a teacher, and even though I didn't share much of myself with you in 1999, the seed of truth that you planted in me has grown, and the fruit of love is ripening. If we ever see each other again, you are welcome to share this fruit. It belongs to you as much as it belongs to me.

I took your class because it fit snugly into my schedule, and I needed the credits. I didn't even know who E. M. Forster was when I signed up for it. I did read Where Angels Fear to Tread, and at least part of A Room with a View, but I think I will find a copy of Howard's End tomorrow and read it over the weekend. I'll see the words with your eyes. I'm ready for it now.

When I'm finished with it, maybe I'll send it to David. He wants to share something with you, too. There's a band called Papadosio that he highly recommends. Look it up on YouTube. You'll find us there.