Hello from Panera,
I am sitting with some hot tea and waiting for my colleague and friend to arrive. I first met him on a Kraków corner with two Bloomsburg students and more extensively on a bus riding with a group of students to Auschwitz (Oświęcim). This somewhat slight and soft-spoken professor, Mykola, with Eastern/Central heritage, would become one of my most treasured colleagues and friend in my time here in Bloomsburg. He is also one of the most brilliant individuals I’ve ever met. Perhaps the most accomplished polyglot I know, he was a medical doctor before he left Europe. However, those are the basics, his understanding of pretty much every thing will boggle your mind because it rolls out of him in such an understated manner that you often fail to recognize how profound he is. Additionally his wry sense of humor, his ability to mystify everyone, and his unflappability make him all the more interesting. He is one of the people, one of the colleagues, I will miss the most. I probably have a better chance of finding him in Europe than I will in his office.
As I sit here writing, I am waiting on two papers in my 400 level course. Once I complete their evaluation, submitting that course to Banner will complete my last academic semester as a professor in PASSHE, our state system. As many know, I have pondered when I should retire for a couple years, but last summer I knew it was time to make that move, and so the last lap of a complete semester, while as busy as ever, had a different feeling to it. I did not suffer from the academic version of senioritis, but I did find myself thinking about how graciousness might serve all more effectively. Even in our post-COVID world, the day-to-day experience in academe has changed from pre-2020, and some of those changes are dramatic, consequential. What lockdown did to course delivery, social interaction, expectations from all view points, to daily practice is not the college campus experienced even 5 years ago. The vibrancy of mornings, seeing students in the quad or streaming out of classrooms in my building is no longer the norm. Seeing departmental office with faculty sitting at their desks or standing at the printer is a thing of the past. Too many times the hallways, the classrooms, and sidewalks seem like a scene from a movie where survivors have returned after some apocalyptic event. It has been sad to experience that change, not only for my colleagues, but also for current students. All of these changes make it easier to believe it is time to move to the next chapter, the new path, of an unparalleled, a certainly unexpected, time in the academy. It has been a world of learning, not just for my students, but for me. I perhaps learned much more than I could ever teach or offer. This past week someone asked if I had any idea how many students I have had in my classes? That would take some calculating. But let me try to offer some possible (with some degree of accuracy) number. Because writing classes do not have the high course caps of other classes, my numbers are low compared to my gen ed, lecture-leading colleagues. I think, running some estimates, I have probably had between 9,000-10,000 students over three decades, and while that number is not enormous, managing writing is a very different task, and one that is enormously labor intensive, and can be incredibly satisfying. Writing requires critical thought and analysis; it is an art ( not unlike Aristotle’s argument about rhetoric, in spite of his disdain for writing) that instills process. It is the thing that most often instantiates possibility or orchestrates happenstance, changing it into reality for me.
All of that is of significance, but the impetus for this post is to offer a profound thank you to individuals too numerous to count for their important contributions to my teaching career. if I go all the way back to Suomi, one of my first students would eventually go to Dana, my Alma Mater, and then to Luther Seminary. He did more to help me realize both my strengths and weaknesses than he will ever know. Another, who was an RA would eventually go to receive a Master’s and work with me years later at MTU. There were numerous others who taught me more significant lessons that would serve me well, some times things that I needed to do much differently. When I would return to work on a second Master’s and PhD, both grad school colleagues and students would help me begin to understand what becoming a professor would mean. That is not as simple as one might believe. Managing course material barely scratches the surface. During that period, I lost a sister, a father, a marriage, and almost my schooling at one point. Ironically, my work outside the university as a server did as much to keep a balance as all my work at the university did. Emergency surgery and a class of international engineers that semester revealed the important give and take from instructor to student as much as any class ever would. To this day I am in touch with two from that class. One of them, who lives in Spain, will always have significance in my life.
When I arrived in Wisconsin, the first year there had me wondering if I had made the right decision to become a scholar, an academic. At the end of a brutal first semester, students wrote evaluations that were stunningly brutal and hurtful, and they minced no words. Fortunately, there was a single student, also a single mother, who trusted I had her best interests at heart. Now 20 years later, she is still in my life as a now married mother of three. She did more to support this struggling academic wannabe than words will ever express. I love her to this day for that support. Then there was a student, who hid away in the back of a freshman composition course, having transferred from one of the flagship institutions of the Wisconsin system, she was a brilliant writer, better than 95% of my other students. In fact, I told her she would have to push herself and I would do so on her papers, but that she might find the class a bit mundane. Today, she is one of the closest things to a daughter I would ever hope to have. While I could give a lengthy list of important students, one has little idea of how he affected me emotionally, when he gave me a thank you note my last semester at Stout, comparing to Dr. Larch in Irving’s book, Cider House Rules. I cried when I read that note. Another person, one whose father had taught at Stout, returned to get his degree while serving in the military. He would help me move to Bloomsburg and would care for Lydia after I left. In fact, he, his family, and I tag-teamed her, and he was with her when she passed away. Another student, who will always have an important place in my heart, stayed in my little house when I first moved. The significance she held in my life had been unspoken, but there are no words to adequately express her importance. She is probably one of the most talented and beautiful people I have ever been blessed to know.
Then there is Bloomsburg (now Commonwealth). It is the place I learned to really become a professor. Again, fortunately, two classes that first semester set the stage for what would come. As much as the first semester at Stout would bury me, the first semester (and year) at Bloomsburg would ground me on a successful trajectory. My Bible as Literature class and my first small class of Writing in the Professions had students I am still in touch with as I retire. One student would show up in class my second semester, she earned the minor, was an honors students, and by the time she finished her degree, 1/4 of her undergrad was in my classes. She and a second student, also in another class that semester as well as both worked in the writing center, are both married, have two children, and both remain important in my life. They were members of the first group of students who paralleled my first four years, During the decade and a half here, I could focus on the various students who have lived with me during summers, during academic years, from the states and overseas. Each of those students changed my life. They were there as I struggled with my health, as I remodeled and renovated the Acre. They know who they are, and each individual helped me understand so much more about myself. The first filled in the pot holes for those who would follow. She pushed me to learn about myself in ways beyond anything I could imagine, and I spoke with her this week. The last just received her Master’s, and ironically, they have both humbled me by asking that I officiate their weddings. Two others, one who was a foreign exchange student and another who came to me in tears the first day of class, and who have the same first name, continue to bless me with their presence in my life. Some are mother’s now and her father blessed me by saying I was as much a father as he was. Quite a change from the first time I met him. Another brilliant, but quiet, student got up early to drive to class, taking a nap before class. She would not finish and is now a mother of three and a half (yes, another on the way). She is one of the most amazingly good people I have ever met. Now the entire family is a blessing.
Certainly, it is dangerous to list anyone for fear of missing or offending another, but that is not the intent. What I am noting are a few in the confines of this small space. As importantly, in the 9,000+, each one is part of the amazing tapestry that has been a wonderfully complex, but simultaneously rewarding three decades. I have been blessed beyond words. A student once asked me if I ever disliked a student. In three decades, only one. Perhaps on the most profoundly capable and talented students I ever taught, but not a good person. It was for that reason I did not like them. One in 30+ years means I am fortunate beyond works. And indeed, for that and so many other reasons, I give thanks. The calling of the academy was not something I heard early, and in many ways it had been as important a calling as my time as a pastor. It is for that reason I share this piece I have used before. It was sung at my ordination, and I believe it would be appropriate at my funeral.
Thank you for reading,
Dr. Martin
thewritingprofessor55 
Dr. Martin – That was a beautiful post and I am pleased to have gotten to read it. I am just beginning your summer course, so our paths are crossing at the end of your career. First and foremost, congratulations on your retirement.
While reading this post, I perceived it as very inspirational. I recently made the decision to quit my job and return to school to pursue another bachelor’s degree. Although I do not have children, I have a fiancée and two massive dogs who rely on me. The idea of abandoning my career to pursue a different path has been an anxious thought in the back of my mind since I made this decision.
As I read your post, I took note of the struggles that you faced throughout the years of your professional career. Although you faced these challenges, you continued to push forward and focused on the people who entered your life that helped you along the way. I did not realize how much I was in need of an inspirational story until this morning. I completed my first bachelor’s degree in 2018 and have worked full time in a variety of careers since then. The idea of going back to school and confronting the feeling of “starting from square one” at age 27 has been a big factor for the opposing side of this decision.
Another major point I took from your post is focusing on those that support you while not letting the adversaries change your path. I do think it is important to accept, and learn from, constructive criticism, but I think a very valuable skill is being able to tell the difference between constructive criticism and hateful comments that are given for the purpose of discouraging you.
I sincerely look forward to this -very- condensed summer semester with you, even if I am extremely overwhelmed looking at the syllabus and upcoming assignments. Again, congratulations on your retirement!
Shannon,
I commend you for taking the chance to do what you think is best for you. It is not an easy thing to do. I did not complete my doctoral degree until I was 50. That is not what I expected my life to be, but it is what happened. It has been a journey. We always ave choices in life, and the most basic one is simply to quit or pick ourselves up, brush ourselves off, and keep going. Resilience is an important quality to work on and foster.
It is a pleasure to have you in class.
Dr. Martin
Dr. Martin,
While I consider myself an emotional person it takes a lot to move me to tears through a writing piece. Your post, simply put, was beautiful. I won’t lie to you that seeing we would be required to read posts from your blog and respond to them initially made my eyes roll. I was ready to be bored and to skim through the posts, leaving a less than satisfactory comment just to get it done and over with. But here I am, at my full-time summer job in a boring, freezing office, in tears.
This is the first and only time our paths will cross and for that I am disappointed. I’ve said to my many advisors that I’ve struggled truly connecting with any of my professors, and with that, the care of my studies quickly dissipated. I fear we would have gotten along splendidly. I plan on making the most of our short few weeks together and to soak up as much information I can from you.
You cherish your students. It’s difficult to find that in educators nowadays. You have taken students who are as young as 18 and have seen something in them they most likely have not – and for that you are a beautiful person. As you stated, the world is astronomically different than it was half a decade ago. Mental health crises are at an all-time high, students are struggling, people are struggling to make ends meet, yet you are still focusing on all of the positives in your life despite all the hardships you have faced.
I hope you realize and understand that the way your students have impacted you most likely have impacted them as well. There are probably dozens, if not hundreds of students who utter your name that you made a difference in their life. I have “known” you for a total of 72 hours, and I can already tell the person you are. Congratulations on what is undoubtedly and incredible career. Enjoy a well-deserved retirement, and hopefully you may run into Professor Mykola in Europe a handful of times.
Regina,
I am humbled and honored by your response. We hope that what we write makes a difference. That was my intent all those years ago when I first decided to blog. I write from both my head and my heart, but I hope that what I ponder is not that different from others, and if my pondering, my reflecting, offers something of value, then the post was successful.
Thank you for reminding me that words matter.
Dr. Martin
Dr. Martin,
It always means a lot to meet a professor that truly cares about elevating each student they come across. Sometimes you get into a class and see a professor that is just going through the motions and is just trying to get by. While that can seem great at first for a student, I believe it ultimately hurts the student overall. While it is unfortunate we are only finally meeting at the end of your career, I am grateful that I get to have you as an instructor before you leave.
Most of the time, the toughest teachers provide the most benefit for the student. I don’t expect to get an A in this class. I have always struggled with writing. What I am most looking forward to getting out of this class is a lot more writing experience. As a Music Business student, I am not unaware that writing will play a large part in my life. Therefore, I cannot hide from the challenge that is writing. I look forward to progressing my writing with the guidance of someone who so clearly cares.
It also means a lot to read about the struggles you have endured throughout your life. The constant theme in this post of how students were the anchor that helped lift you out of those dark times only reaffirms how much you care about your students.
I look forward to the rest of this summer session with you, and wish you the best in your upcoming retirement.
Bryce Klinger
Dr. Martin,
Your thanks and appreciation to the people in your life that helped shape you and your career is beyond touching. Showing a sense of vulnerability (especially on a public platform) is misremembering and something I will envy you for. I feel most professors or people in general in today’s society don’t feel the need to acknowledge or forget about those who have “filled the potholes.”
Of course I have not had the opportunity to get to know you as a professor or a person yet. However by simply reading one post I get the sense that you are a very kind, well lived person. Over the next 4 weeks I hope to learn not only by the content of the class but from your life experiences as well.
Jessica Griffith 🙂
Jessica,
Thank you for your post and thoughts. I think there are three things that characterize who I am. I am resilient, optimistic, and yet there is a sense of melancholy to me, that part of me that wonders what if? Wishes at times for what if? I actually spoke with my fill-in-the-potholes person twice this week, and we actually addressed that issue. She laughed (we both did), but we were not always laughing that summer.
I appreciate your thoughts, and I hope I can live up to that expectation. I do try to be kind, and yet honest. My seminary professor once said this in class, and it is something I have always remembered. “Honesty without love is brutality.” I took that to heart.
Thanks again for your thoughts.
Dr. Martin
Dr. Martin,
I wanted to respond to your heartfelt reflections with a poem, a tribute to the profound impact your journey through academia has had on those around you. As I delved into your memories and experiences, I found inspiration in the richness of your story. Here’s my attempt at capturing the essence of your words:
In the halls of academia, stories intertwine,
A tapestry of connection, woven line by line.
From Kraków’s corner to Auschwitz’s somber air,
Chance encounters and friendships, beyond compare.
Mykola, the soft-spoken sage, with wisdom deep,
A treasured colleague, his presence we keep.
In the quietude of post-COVID halls,
Reflections on retirement, as the curtain falls.
Through the years, faces come and go,
Each student, a seed, of knowledge to sow.
From Wisconsin’s critiques to Bloomsburg’s embrace,
Lessons learned, in every place.
The emptiness of corridors, once vibrant and bright,
Now echoes with memories, in fading light.
But amidst the changes, one truth remains,
The human spirit, in learning’s gains.
As you bid farewell to this chapter of your career,
Know that your impact will forever persevere.
For in teaching and learning, you’ve found your art,
A symphony of souls, etched on your heart.
Congratulations on your retirement, Dr. Martin. While this may mark the end of one journey, it’s also the beginning of a new chapter filled with endless possibilities. Your wisdom and insights have touched countless lives, and I hope you continue to share your knowledge and passion with the world.
Dr. Martin,
Thank you for sharing what you believe are the most impactful and important people you ever met. They are special in their own ways, and not one are the same, but have their significance that you acknowledge. While reading this blog, it makes me think about the friends I made along the way here at Bloomsburg University (Commonwealth) because they are special individuals that made a big or even small impacts in my life.
While reading your first blog about frailty and this one, I have learned so much about you because I can tell you are kind, caring, and genuine professor. The experiences with these individuals have shaped you to who you are today and it’s heartwarming. During these 4 weeks, I hope to learn, to love, and to enjoy this class because it is a new experience for me. Thank you Dr. Martin!
Taleah Ruben 🙂
Good afternoon from the Military and Veteran Resource Office here at Bloomsburg University. I started working here last week and I had some free time today, so I decided to take the time to respond to a blog post before I have to get more work done.
Let me start by just saying, wow. Your post was incredibly moving and had so much thought and emotion behind it and you can tell all that just from your writing. As I read your post, I realized something myself, every person you meet in your life will have an impact on you, but not everybody will have the same kind or level of impact. Some people will have a positive one, while others will have a negative. Sometimes they leave a small impact like giving you a friendly smile on a bad day. Some will have an massive impact and be an integral part of your every day life. I think it is important to understand that concept for everybody else, but also for yourself. Some people have a desire to leave an amazing and huge impact on every person they meet, which would be hard to do and is quite impossible. People need to be okay with the fact that not every person they meet will be positive and not all people they meet will be negative. You need to have the bad to appreciate the good, or as I say, “You need to have the rainy days to make the sunny days that much brighter.”
It took me awhile to accept that not every person I was going to meet was going to have a negative impact. After you meet so many people that only effect you in a negative way, you start to lose the interest and care to meet new people out of fear of never receiving any positive impacts. I eventually got over that and have gained to many positive people in my life who are leaving an enormous positive impact on my life, and it is for those people I am eternally grateful.
Your reflection on your academic journey is both touching and insightful. Meeting your colleague Mykola under such significant circumstances highlights the profound impact that personal connections can have in our professional lives. Your recounting of the changes in the academic environment, especially post-COVID, resonates with many who have experienced similar shifts in their institutions. The sense of loss for the vibrant campus life of the past is palpable. Yet, your gratitude towards your students and colleagues, who have shaped and supported you through the years, is inspiring. It’s evident that your dedication to teaching and mentoring has left a lasting impact on countless lives. As you transition into retirement, your reflections serve as a testament to the meaningful and transformative power of education, both for the educator and the student. Thank you for sharing these heartfelt memories and insights, which remind us of the importance of grace, resilience, and connection in our personal and professional journeys.
Thank you for writing,
Zane Herzog
Hi Dr. Martin!
I have to agree with another student, showing vulnerability in your position is so inspiring for commonwealth students. As some of us are either figuring out what we want in life, moments like your readings help bring clarity to our lives. One of my favorite experiences of college are just being young and learning. It can be invigorating and even exhausting at times, these interpersonal experiences help your students form a type of meaning to our own lives.
A personal part of my education originally started in the 6th grade, when my mom had been began her BA degree in Human Services. The fond memories of doing homework along side with my mom helped me realized how important hard work was. I believe my upbringing definitely inspired my goal of earning my doctorate by the age of 28. Although the goal may seem unrealistic, it’s the bare minimum goal for myself compared to my life goals.
As I strive to hit goals ranging from drinking enough water on a daily basis to providing music education to my community, it all seems like something I already should be doing. Within my work, I’ve started to accept the positive and negative, since I believe they’ll always be present in life. Seeing a professor but as much work and effort into their students only gives me ambition, as inspiration starts within the classroom.
I’d like to say I’m grateful as well. I’m grateful for the opportunity to work hard and achieve my dreams within my reality. Retaking this and many other classes I’m humbled to say that I love learning the mistakes I make, as well as overcoming them.
Thank you for sharing your reflections and gratitude in your post. Your appreciation for your colleagues, students, and the journey you’ve had has a professor was pleasant to read. It’s evident that your commitment to teaching and your connections with those around you have profoundly impacted many lives. How you spoke about discipline, both in your own life and in the academic world, resonates deeply, especially your emphasis on the necessity and challenge of maintaining it. The memories and stories you’ve shared highlight the positive influence and relationships you’ve built over your career. This was nice to read as I am a teacher in training. As you move into the next chapter of your life with your retirement, your insights and experiences will undoubtedly continue to inspire and guide those who’ve had the privilege of knowing you.
Thank you for writing such a beautiful post. It’s amazing how the right people enter our lives at the right time to make a difference. I’m glad you’ve had so many people in yours. You paint such an amazing picture with your words. I felt like a was watching the montage at the end of a movie where the person retiring gets to watch a highlight reel. One of the reasons I decided to take on an intensive 4-week summer course in English (a subject I struggle with) was because of all the great things I have heard about you as a teacher. I have not been disappointed and I am honored to be a student in the last class you will teach at Bloomsburg. I hope you will continue to write this blog so I can follow along on your next “chapter.”