JAMIE KEENE
I grinned in anticipation as Skype displayed the moving ellipses indicating that it was connecting with the recipient of my video call. Flashbacks of essay revisions handed back with the words inked in red, “TOO WORDY!!!” and long conversations about A Visit from the Goon Squad, Anna Karenina, and our mutual favorite The New Yorker ran through my mind—all fond memories of my personal mentor and second mother of five years, and by happenchance also my English teacher for three years. Ms. Keene is what we called her, and it was not uncommon to hear echos of her name reverberating through the halls of our high school, as she was a favorite to many. However, to me, she was always more than an English teacher: the first friend I would turn to for advice on personal situations, the one who would be just as excited as I was for my success and just as upset for my setbacks, and the person who taught me “what it means to be a human being.”
The video call connected and her face sprung onto the screen, both of us already grinning like Cheshire cats out of glee of seeing each other after such a long time. I had previously emailed her about the project, so she was already familiar with the premise of the project. Therefore, after exchanging our usual sassy pleasantries, I got right into it.
Me: I was wondering if you’d answer a few questions for me. I actually wanted to interview you, because I know you have a unique perspective on the city, not being from here and all.
Ms. Keene: Of course! Give me one minute…Sasha’s been throwing a temper tantrum, because she wants me to make her Mac n’ Cheese for dinner, but I’ve already made spaghetti. She’s been throwing her toys around. [Sasha is her three-year-old daughter.]
Me: Haha, sure sure. Why don’t you bring the screen to her? It’s been a while since I’ve seen her, and I know me pretending to cry makes her laugh. It might make her mood better!
Ms. Keene: That actually might just work! [It does.]
...20 minutes later...
Ms. Keene: Sorry for keeping you; you have a midterm in two days, and I know that you probably haven’t started yet. [I hadn’t.]
Me: Aw, it’s alright Ms. Keene! It’s really nice seeing you after so long. I’ve missed you so much! Regarding the questions, my first is: what brought you to New Orleans in the first place?
Ms. Keene: Actually, I was teaching at the University of Oregon at the time, but wanted a change of pace, because I wanted more autonomy when it came to the material I could teach. At the university, I was in charge of the comparative literature program and taught classes in writing technique as well. It got damn boring after a while. I wanted the freedom to teach in arenas I was specifically interested in like contemporary literature, editorial writing, and works like Heart of Darkness and Metamorphosis. And right around that time when I was just feeling frustrated and stuck in a rut, Amanda [another English teacher at our school with whom Ms. Keene went to graduate school] called me told me there is job opportunity.
Me: Yeah, I remember all those classes on this stuff. I think that’s why I liked it so much more. You seemed to care about what you were saying, and all of us understood that this isn’t just you bullshitting us and pretending that the literature was important when you actually couldn’t care less. Your enthusiasm was contagious…and also, because we liked you, we wanted to give you our best. But, other than there being a vacancy, is there any other reason why you accepted the position and moved to New Orleans. How do you like it now that you’ve been here for six years and have had a chance to really let it sink in?
Ms. Keene: I’ve always had a fascination with New Orleans, and NO, it’s not because of the party culture or anything like that. You read about it all the time, and you talk to people who always say that there is something magical about New Orleans, and there are so many influential writers that came out of the area. I had this silly picture in my head of me sitting at a bench in the French Quarter, overlooking the Mississippi River and writing with just an ink pen, paper, and the myriad of influences that surrounded me. I guess it was this romantic, enigmatic notion that drew me to the place.
Me: Okay, so what are some of the differences you notice about New Orleans and other places you’ve been to?
Ms. Keene: Wow! I think the better question would be what are the similarities! There are so many…I guess I’ll just focus on the less obvious; let’s keep it interesting. I don’t want to bore your teacher. I think one that I notice is pretty pervasive in the city is that people don’t identify themselves with the state. I mean, most people are quick to correct me if I say they’re from Louisiana. They almost get offended and say, “No, I’m from New Orleans. Big difference.” And I guess there is if you really think about it. There is a very big difference between someone from New Orleans and someone from, let’s say, Slidell, in the manner of speaking, accent, mindset, values, recreational activities, and even the cultural exposure. Everything’s different.
Me: Ah, thanks Ms. Keene! I think I have everything I need! Thanks again for everything; I’ll call on the weekend and we can probably talk a little more leisurely once this midterm’s done.
Ms. Keene: You’d better! And study hard; I know you will. Love you!
Me: Love you Ms. Keene! See you soon.
I grinned in anticipation as Skype displayed the moving ellipses indicating that it was connecting with the recipient of my video call. Flashbacks of essay revisions handed back with the words inked in red, “TOO WORDY!!!” and long conversations about A Visit from the Goon Squad, Anna Karenina, and our mutual favorite The New Yorker ran through my mind—all fond memories of my personal mentor and second mother of five years, and by happenchance also my English teacher for three years. Ms. Keene is what we called her, and it was not uncommon to hear echos of her name reverberating through the halls of our high school, as she was a favorite to many. However, to me, she was always more than an English teacher: the first friend I would turn to for advice on personal situations, the one who would be just as excited as I was for my success and just as upset for my setbacks, and the person who taught me “what it means to be a human being.”
The video call connected and her face sprung onto the screen, both of us already grinning like Cheshire cats out of glee of seeing each other after such a long time. I had previously emailed her about the project, so she was already familiar with the premise of the project. Therefore, after exchanging our usual sassy pleasantries, I got right into it.
Me: I was wondering if you’d answer a few questions for me. I actually wanted to interview you, because I know you have a unique perspective on the city, not being from here and all.
Ms. Keene: Of course! Give me one minute…Sasha’s been throwing a temper tantrum, because she wants me to make her Mac n’ Cheese for dinner, but I’ve already made spaghetti. She’s been throwing her toys around. [Sasha is her three-year-old daughter.]
Me: Haha, sure sure. Why don’t you bring the screen to her? It’s been a while since I’ve seen her, and I know me pretending to cry makes her laugh. It might make her mood better!
Ms. Keene: That actually might just work! [It does.]
...20 minutes later...
Ms. Keene: Sorry for keeping you; you have a midterm in two days, and I know that you probably haven’t started yet. [I hadn’t.]
Me: Aw, it’s alright Ms. Keene! It’s really nice seeing you after so long. I’ve missed you so much! Regarding the questions, my first is: what brought you to New Orleans in the first place?
Ms. Keene: Actually, I was teaching at the University of Oregon at the time, but wanted a change of pace, because I wanted more autonomy when it came to the material I could teach. At the university, I was in charge of the comparative literature program and taught classes in writing technique as well. It got damn boring after a while. I wanted the freedom to teach in arenas I was specifically interested in like contemporary literature, editorial writing, and works like Heart of Darkness and Metamorphosis. And right around that time when I was just feeling frustrated and stuck in a rut, Amanda [another English teacher at our school with whom Ms. Keene went to graduate school] called me told me there is job opportunity.
Me: Yeah, I remember all those classes on this stuff. I think that’s why I liked it so much more. You seemed to care about what you were saying, and all of us understood that this isn’t just you bullshitting us and pretending that the literature was important when you actually couldn’t care less. Your enthusiasm was contagious…and also, because we liked you, we wanted to give you our best. But, other than there being a vacancy, is there any other reason why you accepted the position and moved to New Orleans. How do you like it now that you’ve been here for six years and have had a chance to really let it sink in?
Ms. Keene: I’ve always had a fascination with New Orleans, and NO, it’s not because of the party culture or anything like that. You read about it all the time, and you talk to people who always say that there is something magical about New Orleans, and there are so many influential writers that came out of the area. I had this silly picture in my head of me sitting at a bench in the French Quarter, overlooking the Mississippi River and writing with just an ink pen, paper, and the myriad of influences that surrounded me. I guess it was this romantic, enigmatic notion that drew me to the place.
Me: Okay, so what are some of the differences you notice about New Orleans and other places you’ve been to?
Ms. Keene: Wow! I think the better question would be what are the similarities! There are so many…I guess I’ll just focus on the less obvious; let’s keep it interesting. I don’t want to bore your teacher. I think one that I notice is pretty pervasive in the city is that people don’t identify themselves with the state. I mean, most people are quick to correct me if I say they’re from Louisiana. They almost get offended and say, “No, I’m from New Orleans. Big difference.” And I guess there is if you really think about it. There is a very big difference between someone from New Orleans and someone from, let’s say, Slidell, in the manner of speaking, accent, mindset, values, recreational activities, and even the cultural exposure. Everything’s different.
Me: Ah, thanks Ms. Keene! I think I have everything I need! Thanks again for everything; I’ll call on the weekend and we can probably talk a little more leisurely once this midterm’s done.
Ms. Keene: You’d better! And study hard; I know you will. Love you!
Me: Love you Ms. Keene! See you soon.