My Two High School English Teachers
This excellent Op-Ed piece was published in the L.A. Times yesterday. The writer, Barry Smolin, was two years behind me at Fairfax High School and my sister was friends with his sister. It is an ode to George Schoenman, a long-time English teacher at Fairfax, and tangentially talks about Richard Battaglia, another English teacher, as well.
Please read the article. Both of those teachers influenced me as hugely as they did Barry and he describes them well. Mr. Battaglia was my teacher for pretty much every semester I was at Fairfax. He taught me how to write. He exposed us to films that I still think about ("Blow-up," "I Never Sang for My Father," and "The Pawnbroker" being three examples.) He offered an independent studies Shakespeare class where we read the plays,went to see the movies at The Royal Theater and then wrote papers and analyzed. He encouraged us to be adventurous. He sponsored me in my own self created independent studies class and gave me a note authorizing me to leave campus during that period so I could study while eating chocolate chip sweet rolls and french fries at Cantor's deli. I was his teacher's aide - he called me "Radar" after Radar O'Reilly from Mash - and working for him was the first indication that I was really good at all things organizational. He carried all his papers and paraphernalia in a banker's box that became very worn. I tore off a piece of the box at the end of the school year and had him autograph it. I will not say how long I held on to that particular souvenir. Just before graduation, Mr. Battaglia took me out for a thank-you breakfast at The Melting Pot restaurant on La Cienega and Melrose. We drove there in his BMW. Did I mention he looked like Sam Elliott in "The Lifeguard?"
Mr. Schoenman was different. He taught us how to analyze great literature and exposed us to existentialism. The summer after I took Mr. Schoenman's class I visited my piano teacher in Santa Barbara. We were building sand castles on the beach and she asked me to describe my idea of the perfect man. Mr. Schoenman was on my mind and I described someone of his temperament. I must not have done as good a job as Barry does in his article because my piano teacher looked mortified and said, "Oh no, you don't want someone so introspective. You'll never know what he's thinking!" But she was married to a fairly well known and gregarious Hungarian cellist who may have had an eye for the ladies - so there.
When he was my homeroom teacher, Mr. Schoenman offered some words of wisdom which had nothing to do with literature. He told us that, when using the girls' restroom, we should avoid putting our purses on the ground as there had been incidences of theft. Though this warning says much about how things were at Fairfax High School in the 1970's, I think of this advice every time I enter a ladies room stall and always make sure my purse is elevated even when there is no hook. It has served me well.