Department of English
I often find it very useful to call up memories of some of my past professors as models. Some professors are especially good outside of the classroom — in the corridors, with enthusiastic mentoring or editorial help.
But when I am preparing for a large lecture class, I think back to Vincent Scully, a standout lecturer/performer who introduced art history and modern architecture to several generations of Yale students. Each of his sessions was a massively prepared multi-media show, combining music, poetry, and pictures with his words—and all leading up to a perfect climax just as the bell rang to end the period. He really cared about the message he was delivering, and seemed to get inside each building or painting or sculpture he was interpreting, often smashing the screen with his pointer to convey the feeling of each work. These lectures combined big, provocative ideas with a lot of examples of careful close reading. Everyone who took those classes remembers them in later life.
I don't feel I ever stepped back and chose this calling. This was partly because both of my parents were professors, one in Russian literature and the other in art history — I guess I absorbed their very positive examples by osmosis. Both of them were greatly involved in teaching and mentoring, and my mother was especially strongly committed to the importance of teaching.