I come from a family of educators. My mom was an English teacher. My step-dad was a teacher. I am a teacher and so is my husband. My dad did not have a very stable or lengthy career, despite his intelligence, talent, and education. But, he did teach for awhile. Correction–he was employed as a teacher for awhile, but he was always a teacher and his “lessons” covered many subjects and took many forms.
Every Friday for many, many years I would receive a hand-written letter from my dad.
These were not usually typical “newsy” letters recounting what he was up to that week. Though he sometimes included those details, more often they recounted episodes from his childhood or young adulthood or offered commentary on current news stories. There were also lengthy episodic, fanciful stories of talking cats, lizards, dramas about witches, and many other crazy tales that would pick up and continue the following week.
There were references to mythology, Shakespeare, art, and music. Often a copy of a poem, article, or comic was included in the envelope. Sometimes there were cut-and-paste messages with words and phrases cut out of newspapers and magazines. Regardless of the content, there always seemed to be a purpose behind these letters.
Sometimes the letters were a continuation of a recent conversation. Sometimes the conversation began in the letter and then continued when I visited. When I would visit my dad on the Saturday or Sunday that followed, he would often subversively “quiz” me on the contents of the letter of the week. If I didn’t read it, or if I didn’t read it carefully enough or remember the details, he would not so subtly call me out on it. For many years as a married adult, I would call my dad on Fridays. I would joke to my husband prior to making that call, that I needed to “study” first. In other words, I needed to review the letter carefully. It’s not that I didn’t read the letters, but sometimes I didn’t quite absorb all the details and references. Sometimes I was really tired from a long teaching day and a commute.
These weekly letters are an integral part of this project as I am cataloguing them by date. In the process I am discovering glimpses of my life through my father’s eyes. On the surface, it often seems that I shared with him many details about my experiences at the time. But, I also know there was a lot I didn’t share and many things he didn’t know about me. There is also a lot I didn’t know about him.
His letters were often a creative endeavor designed to entertain and maybe enlighten. But, more often, he saw them as an educational tool, I think. There were lessons to absorb. While I often didn’t appreciate the educational value at the time, I sure do now.
Take Lots of Pictures 