South High School – Alison McGhee

September 6, 2017September 6, 2017

Pablo and Birdy: Immigrant Story #2

I’m thinking of Cheng right now. He was a skinny, small kid with huge black glasses who always wore a plaid shirt and big tie shoes, a student of mine long ago when I first moved to Minneapolis and took a job teaching Mandarin at a big urban high school. Cheng sat in the front … Continue reading Pablo and Birdy: Immigrant Story #2

December 13, 2012

"Ni hao" (on teaching, another in a series)

You’ve always loved this drawing. One of your students gave it to you long ago, when you quit your teaching job at South High School. It was his parting gift to you. His name was Binh, which means “peace” in Vietnamese, and he had emigrated to the U.S. when he was a baby. Binh was … Continue reading "Ni hao" (on teaching, another in a series)

December 8, 2012

“We never know which lives we influence, or when, or why.” (On teaching, the first in a series.)

The classroom was square and windowless, with white cinder block walls and overhead fluorescent lighting. Six rows of six chairs each filled most of the space, with my gray, regulation-size desk facing them. Behind my desk was a tall filing cabinet. A blackboard covered the wall next to me, a real blackboard with real chalk. … Continue reading “We never know which lives we influence, or when, or why.” (On teaching, the first in a series.)