Tribute to Mike (as read by Joan McKillop at Mike’s farewell party)
How can you pay tribute to a man who does not like to be publicly
praised, who is uncomfortable with compliments, who is easily embarrassed
and who believes himself unworthy of the kind of devotion and respect that
he has earned from those who love him? The answer is you can’t so today
we are not going to embarrass Mike by getting all gushy and sentimental
about what a great guy he is. Instead we’ll recount his eccentricities and
have a laugh about what a character he is.
Along those lines, the first thing to mention is the fact that Mike
doesn’t exactly fit the stereotype of the polished professor of literature--the
tweed wearing, ascotted, pipe smoking, tastefully attired man of letters. In
fact, when you first meet Mike you are more likely to mistake him for a man
who works with his hands than with his brains for here is a man who
obviously does not subscribe to GQ, one who could not tell a French cuff
from a French fry. OK, maybe he could identify a French fry but the point is
that he’s not exactly what you’d call a slave to fashion. That’s not to say that
Denise doesn’t try to gently encourage him toward a more professional look.
I know for a fact that she has introduced him to the idea of ties and belts and
has demonstrated the lost art of ironing. Mike is fully capable of learning
these things since he has earned a PHD in English and all, but for some
reason he doesn’t seem to take to the fashion “thing.” By observing his
wardrobe over time, we know fashion sense is not a sense that comes
naturally to him. Interestingly though, instead of being repulsed by this, we
are more likely intrigued by the idea that our leader is also someone who is
as mystified by the demands of popular culture as we are.
By the time he arrives in class he is usually untucked, unbelted
and unleashed, all of which adds to the charm of his presentations. Mike’s
classroom behavior is as unorthodox as his penchant for wearing socks with
his sandals. He doesn’t just lecture; he paces, gesticulates, swaggers, points,
and mesmerizes with his wit, charm and humor. He makes startling
observations and even more startling connections, often using his famous,
“It’s two, two mints in one” analogy. Needless to say, Mike’s classes are
never boring and never predictable. He quotes Flaubert, Dumas, Aristotle,
Rousseau, Ben Johnson, Christopher Marlowe, Dante, Galeio, Tolstoy and
Faulkner with total familiarity, without seeming pretentious or
condescending. And he is able to do so with complete conviction that we
understand what the hell he is talking about. That is the sign of a great
teacher. He makes us feel brilliant.
Yet brilliance is one of his most outstanding qualities and it’s made
even more exciting by Mike’s ability to cite Shakespeare while
simultaneously running his hands through his hair or reaching into his pants
for reassurance that various body parts are all still with him.
Other quirky Mike traits include the fact that he rides a bike,
distributes more handouts than the Hare Krishna, sometimes writes
comments on papers that are longer than the paper itself and, despite his
prodigious vocabulary, does not seem to know the meaning of the words,
“delegate” and even more surprising, “NO.”
If we were to get mushy and sentimental we would mention the fact
that Mike has been the heart and soul of the GLS program and has
personally touched the lives of each of his students; he’s made education an
attainable goal for more students than would seem possible. He’s dealt with
all sorts of students from all sorts of backgrounds and perspectives and
shared untold amounts of support, encouragement and wisdom. He truly
loves the students with whom he works even though some of us have sorely
tried his patience, some have needed his support, some his attention; some
have been tentative and unsure, some know-it-alls, but, according to him, all
were wonderfully diverse, creative and, to use one of his favorite words,
“engaging.” We’ve seen him work with students who needed guidance,
reassurance and praise, all of which he generously and effortlessly gave
without being obvious or grudging.
Mike may think we love him because we are under the
impression that he is a perfect human being but nothing could be farther
from the truth. I guess if we were writing a resume we for him we would
only identify and mention his very best qualities but that would be only half
the story. We love him because he is so accessible, so charming, engaging
and brilliant but also vulnerable, imperfect and human. The stuff that makes
him more like us.
But we’re not going to mention the gooey stuff.
Goldie Walton (MALS Class of 2004)