Passion, poetry, and point-proof

Posted by admin on Apr 12, 2006 in Academy | 0 comments

On February 20th, I found myself at the office door of a woman whom, I can say quite confidently, has changed my life. I was offering my brief thanks to an educator who had just finished her last class at an institution to which she has offered more than twenty years of her life. That moment, standing there, reminded me of the first time I encountered Dr. Barbara Pell . . .

It was the end of my first year at TWU. Seeking info regarding course requirements, I awaited outside the office of the infamous Dr. Pell. When the door flung open, out went a white-haired man named Bob, and before me stood woman who, even with her lace-up boots, was still a good four or five inches shorter than me. This is Pell-from-Hell? Looks, however, can be deceiving: I’d hardly even opened my mouth before I was wheeled about and sent down the hall to another office. Dr. Pell, smiling all the while, called out in her sonorous voice, “I don’t do that job anymore, my dear.”

I would later pass by that office again and again, taking note of the posted water-skiing photos and play posters and newspaper articles, but it would take me until my third year to enroll in my first Pell class. Immediately, I fell in love with the no-bones-about-it lecturer who, with her trusty water bottle in hand, stood before me, cursing technical equipment and ladies’ Tupperware parties alike. Finally, I thought, an intelligent and strong Christian woman who likes “dirty” books. Finally, someone who acknowledges Canadian culture and literature as important.

Dr. Pell, as a freshman, or freshwoman, I regrettably avoided your classes in fear of being pushed beyond my limits. Indeed, you have pushed me, and have instilled a confidence in me I’ve never before experienced. As you close your door and step out of your teaching role at TWU, I express my gratitude.

Thank you for subjecting me to the glory and horror of point-proof. Thank you for offering me tales of your family history and sage advice about the mystery of love. Thank you for encouraging us back-row bad-girls as we encourage one another, as we continue on in the often harrowing world of academia. Thank you for helping to pave the way for us.