RIP Ms. Robinson
I found out on Monday that one of my teachers from Phillips Exeter, Christine Robinson had died back in June.
She taught English at Exeter. I can’t remember if I’d had her for another class before I signed up for her senior-level course in Women’s Literature or not, but I knew when I heard about that class that I wanted to take it, because she was known as an excellent teacher. And wow, was she ever. The class was “Women writers” but really? It was a primer for feminism. And it was awesome. Thirty years later I still remember most of the books that we read. Because I still actually own most of those books (we bought our own textbooks, and I didn’t sell these back at the end of the semester). I've said many times over the years that it was one of the best courses that I've EVER taken.
We read Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, because it was really one of the first blockbusters by a woman, and has a lot to say about creating life and being a parent and becoming your own person.
We read The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, which is still one of the most amazing short stories/novellas I’ve ever read, about a woman who when denied her creativity slowly goes mad. And I’ve read it many times since then, both in class and on my own, and recommended it to other people. When I taught High School English I tried teaching it, because it was short enough, and it really creeped out my students, which was fun to do to them. It’s semi-autobiographical, because CPG suffered from post-parnum depression after the birth of her child, and her doctor suggested that she completely give up writing and focus all her energies on her baby, which almost drove her mad.
We also read Herland by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, which is about a society without men, and how two three male explorers stumble on these Amazons and try to explain to the women that they’re doing it all wrong and really need men to show them the way. Early adventures in ManSplaining (and I really should track down my copy and give it a re-read now that I’ve just realized that!).
We read I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou, and I was so impressed that I ran out and bought all her other memoirs and read them too, even though they weren’t assigned.
We read The Awakening by Kate Chopin, another book about an artistic woman trying to figure out how to be creative when her role is defined as “wife” and “mother.” We read The Color Purple by Alice Walker before the movie came out and made the book famous. We read Beloved by Toni Morrison when it was still in hardcover. (If The Handmaid’s Tale had been published by then, I’m positive she would have put it on our reading list….)
CRob was a closeted lesbian. Because at the time you couldn’t teach at a private boarding school and be out of the closet. That doesn’t mean we didn’t know, just that there was still a don’t ask, don’t tell sort of thing going on in the early 80s. Everyone knew that two of the male drama teachers were gay. And it was pretty obvious that Ms. Robinson was a butch dyke. I mean, she was an ardent feminist, she used “Ms.”, she was a single woman, she played rugby! What else could she be but a lesbian? (At that point in my life I’d never met a lesbian that I knew of and hadn’t even begun to develop my gaydar, but I knew. Not that it mattered or meant anything to me at that point, because I don’t think I had the brain cycles to do more than keep up with my homework. It wasn’t until I got to college that I really even started thinking about if I knew any gays or lesbians or what that really meant.)
At any rate, I think it was incredibly helpful to have a staunch feminist around when I was going through my formative years in school. And to be exposed to those books, and have those discussions before I went off to college. Exeter was in many ways a “safe” space for discussions and ideas and finding yourself in a way that my University was not.
She taught English at Exeter. I can’t remember if I’d had her for another class before I signed up for her senior-level course in Women’s Literature or not, but I knew when I heard about that class that I wanted to take it, because she was known as an excellent teacher. And wow, was she ever. The class was “Women writers” but really? It was a primer for feminism. And it was awesome. Thirty years later I still remember most of the books that we read. Because I still actually own most of those books (we bought our own textbooks, and I didn’t sell these back at the end of the semester). I've said many times over the years that it was one of the best courses that I've EVER taken.
We read Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, because it was really one of the first blockbusters by a woman, and has a lot to say about creating life and being a parent and becoming your own person.
We read The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, which is still one of the most amazing short stories/novellas I’ve ever read, about a woman who when denied her creativity slowly goes mad. And I’ve read it many times since then, both in class and on my own, and recommended it to other people. When I taught High School English I tried teaching it, because it was short enough, and it really creeped out my students, which was fun to do to them. It’s semi-autobiographical, because CPG suffered from post-parnum depression after the birth of her child, and her doctor suggested that she completely give up writing and focus all her energies on her baby, which almost drove her mad.
We also read Herland by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, which is about a society without men, and how two three male explorers stumble on these Amazons and try to explain to the women that they’re doing it all wrong and really need men to show them the way. Early adventures in ManSplaining (and I really should track down my copy and give it a re-read now that I’ve just realized that!).
We read I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou, and I was so impressed that I ran out and bought all her other memoirs and read them too, even though they weren’t assigned.
We read The Awakening by Kate Chopin, another book about an artistic woman trying to figure out how to be creative when her role is defined as “wife” and “mother.” We read The Color Purple by Alice Walker before the movie came out and made the book famous. We read Beloved by Toni Morrison when it was still in hardcover. (If The Handmaid’s Tale had been published by then, I’m positive she would have put it on our reading list….)
CRob was a closeted lesbian. Because at the time you couldn’t teach at a private boarding school and be out of the closet. That doesn’t mean we didn’t know, just that there was still a don’t ask, don’t tell sort of thing going on in the early 80s. Everyone knew that two of the male drama teachers were gay. And it was pretty obvious that Ms. Robinson was a butch dyke. I mean, she was an ardent feminist, she used “Ms.”, she was a single woman, she played rugby! What else could she be but a lesbian? (At that point in my life I’d never met a lesbian that I knew of and hadn’t even begun to develop my gaydar, but I knew. Not that it mattered or meant anything to me at that point, because I don’t think I had the brain cycles to do more than keep up with my homework. It wasn’t until I got to college that I really even started thinking about if I knew any gays or lesbians or what that really meant.)
At any rate, I think it was incredibly helpful to have a staunch feminist around when I was going through my formative years in school. And to be exposed to those books, and have those discussions before I went off to college. Exeter was in many ways a “safe” space for discussions and ideas and finding yourself in a way that my University was not.