A NATIVE RETURNS #1

[These essays appear to have been written in 1969 for a publication in Norway, Maine.]


Generally speaking, a native of Maine is a standout in other areas of the country; he is forever enumerating the abundant natural beauties of the state and the integrity of her inhabitants, and his loyalty borders on chauvinism. They will fight among themselves, but the intruder who criticizes had better look out.

The average Downeaster who lives outside the state is a unique individual: regardless of how long he lives in another section of the country, he considers himself to be in some sort of voluntary exile and never accepts that place as a permanent domicile.. My father lived in New York for twenty-five years; during that time if anyone asked him where he came from, he would swell up with pride and unhesitatingly say, “Maine.”

He believes and often says, “There are only two places in the world: Maine and somewhere else.”

About a year ago when the powers-that-be invited me to become head of the English department at Oxford Hills High School, I had these instincts and yearnings blinding me to opportunities in other areas. The blindness, however, was greatly assisted by the young ideas and progressive attitudes of administrators and others with whom I discussed the programs and the advantages of teaching in SAD 17.

As I walked through your new buildings and saw the physical indications of the community’s commitment to the educational needs of the young people, I felt that indeed this was the place for me and that my instinctive loyalty to the state of Maine had foundation in fact.

A year has passed, and as a native I feel that I have returned not to a barren Egdon Heath but to a place of fertile ideas and imagination. The teachers with whom I work are much more interested in finding ways of making education a meaningful and interesting experience than in the squawking and striking we read about in other places. The easy going and humorous give-and-take that I meet in the stores, post office, and garages is like a breath of fresh air. This native is simply happy to be here.

I had a few misgivings at first. I had forgotten about the native tendency to view out-of-staters with a certain amount of suspicion, and I allowed my car to sit in my driveway and in the school parking lot as long as the law allowed with a New York registration on it. I changed the registration, but the old one seemed to show on through. I recently traded cars with a local dealer. and hopefully that old registration will not be associated with what I now drive.

Through the good offices of this column, I would like to take you into the classroom, down the corridors, and into the auditorium. I would like to make a few observations, where the action is, not as an observer but as a participant. If I by-pass the teachers’ room, please excuse me because I sincerely believe that even a teacher has to have a place where he can let his hair down and be secure.

I want to show you how earnestly teachers of various subjects are working together to provide the students with an awareness of the relationships that exist among the various subjects.

I specifically want to show you how some students themselves are working in my English classes to discover their own needs.

At the same time, allow me to reminisce about other places and other people and to explore anything from academics to mini-skirts.

The native has returned, but he has been places.