I never had David Citino as a professor.
After taking an Introduction to Writing Poetry, I decided I wouldn't do that again. That doesn't mean I can't appreciate it though. I remember once, during a dark period, seeing him read. It was moving, inspirational even, and looking around the room at the audience, I could see that he was having an impact, whether it was on a college student new to the beautiful things poetry can do or his colleagues who lovingly introduced him and listened intently.
Standing in front of a filing cabinet yesterday at work, an announcement was made on NPR that he had died following complications from cancer and multiple sclerosis. It's such a terrible loss.
At the beginning of the quarter, my non-fiction professor told us that an interim professor was brought in to teach David Citino's class.
"We have to be nice to the new guy," he said, "and that's why we're giving him the room with the big table."
He told us why the class needed an interim professor, but reassured us and himself that he was going to be okay, that the prognosis was good.
I thought of my professor yesterday, not wanting to imagine how hard this must be, as they were close. A pink slip of paper on the door told us that our class had been cancelled, but it was nothing to celebrate.
My thoughts are with his family and friends now.
After taking an Introduction to Writing Poetry, I decided I wouldn't do that again. That doesn't mean I can't appreciate it though. I remember once, during a dark period, seeing him read. It was moving, inspirational even, and looking around the room at the audience, I could see that he was having an impact, whether it was on a college student new to the beautiful things poetry can do or his colleagues who lovingly introduced him and listened intently.
Standing in front of a filing cabinet yesterday at work, an announcement was made on NPR that he had died following complications from cancer and multiple sclerosis. It's such a terrible loss.
At the beginning of the quarter, my non-fiction professor told us that an interim professor was brought in to teach David Citino's class.
"We have to be nice to the new guy," he said, "and that's why we're giving him the room with the big table."
He told us why the class needed an interim professor, but reassured us and himself that he was going to be okay, that the prognosis was good.
I thought of my professor yesterday, not wanting to imagine how hard this must be, as they were close. A pink slip of paper on the door told us that our class had been cancelled, but it was nothing to celebrate.
My thoughts are with his family and friends now.
posted by suzified @ 10:48 AM
1 Comments:
At 5:09 PM,
Lewis said…
David was a brilliant poet, a gentle man, a supportive and conscientious colleague, and a proud father. I have known him in the latter role for the past 21 years because his daughter was a classmate of my son (in the sixth grade, she played Kate to my son's Petruccio in a scene from The Taming of the Shrew). As much as he accomplished, David never seemed to miss a school event. I remember him with awe.
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