WTF?
Final exams began this past Thursday, May 4. One of my two sections of Microbiology stepped into the danger zone at 9 am, the first exam block. Some finished early, some used the entire 2 hours. Some finished and left smiling. Some just left. Other faculty around campus were, I imagine, having a similar experience. Maybe enjoying the opportunity to nudge one last exclamation of academic eloquence from the prodigy in the third row (could he/she be the... one?), hoping against hope that the one teetering on the cusp of failure would fall up instead of down.
The morning seemed pretty normal, the end of a pretty darned good semester. Graduation is around the corner. I'll get to meet families. One last chance to try and find just the right words to say to an eager, grad school bound biologist. "Its been great for me kiddo! I hope I have been what you needed! Write and tell me that you are flourishing! Its a new canvas now!" Summer comes. I wonder how the new freshmen will be... Time marches.
Time stops.
In the Chemistry building next door students gathered to begin another exam. Some stayed up all night, wishing they had studied more regularly when they had the chance. Some DID and so got a wink or two of sleep. They came together for the first of their academic finales of the year. The first of their last, so to speak, and whether or not THEY were ready, their professor, my friend and colleague, Shawn, certainly would be. And the exam would be HARD. Hard, demanding but fair. He would keep up his end; he expected you to keep up yours. He's always been known for that... a man you could count on. But it didn't go down that way. Shawn, the most punctual, reliable guy most of us had known, didn't show.
He didn't show because he was dead.
Or dying. Something. In his office. Down the hall. 40 years old. WTF. How do you work that into your end of the year plans? How does a student?
He was a dorky science professor, like the rest of us. He liked digging for fossils in the Dakota badlands, playing roller hockey on the college tennis courts, reading science for pleasure, music. He was the campus advisor for Amnesty International and was frequently seen outside the cafeteria with students soliciting signatures. He went to the annual SOA protests in Georgia. He hit the coast participating in relief eforts after Hurricane Katrina. He was a Chemistry professor and he would kick your ass if you didn't prepare, but when the kicking was done, you would know he believed in you... you just needed your ass kicked and he would far, far rather be patting your back... an option remaining for the next exam.
Dr. Shawn Allin. He was only here 4 years. He left a larger-than-4-year mark. He was a teacher. We will miss him. I will remember him.
Goodness. WTF.
The morning seemed pretty normal, the end of a pretty darned good semester. Graduation is around the corner. I'll get to meet families. One last chance to try and find just the right words to say to an eager, grad school bound biologist. "Its been great for me kiddo! I hope I have been what you needed! Write and tell me that you are flourishing! Its a new canvas now!" Summer comes. I wonder how the new freshmen will be... Time marches.
Time stops.
In the Chemistry building next door students gathered to begin another exam. Some stayed up all night, wishing they had studied more regularly when they had the chance. Some DID and so got a wink or two of sleep. They came together for the first of their academic finales of the year. The first of their last, so to speak, and whether or not THEY were ready, their professor, my friend and colleague, Shawn, certainly would be. And the exam would be HARD. Hard, demanding but fair. He would keep up his end; he expected you to keep up yours. He's always been known for that... a man you could count on. But it didn't go down that way. Shawn, the most punctual, reliable guy most of us had known, didn't show.
He didn't show because he was dead.
Or dying. Something. In his office. Down the hall. 40 years old. WTF. How do you work that into your end of the year plans? How does a student?
He was a dorky science professor, like the rest of us. He liked digging for fossils in the Dakota badlands, playing roller hockey on the college tennis courts, reading science for pleasure, music. He was the campus advisor for Amnesty International and was frequently seen outside the cafeteria with students soliciting signatures. He went to the annual SOA protests in Georgia. He hit the coast participating in relief eforts after Hurricane Katrina. He was a Chemistry professor and he would kick your ass if you didn't prepare, but when the kicking was done, you would know he believed in you... you just needed your ass kicked and he would far, far rather be patting your back... an option remaining for the next exam.
Dr. Shawn Allin. He was only here 4 years. He left a larger-than-4-year mark. He was a teacher. We will miss him. I will remember him.
Goodness. WTF.
posted by DrC! at 9:48 PM
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