In Defense of Silliness

A woman I admire has been in the news a lot lately. She is 88 years old and going full steam ahead. I met her once, at a book signing, and the one thing I said to her that I actually remember is how much I loved her ability to be silly, and not care a bit what anyone else thought of it. You may have guessed by now that the woman is Betty White.

I remember Betty all the way back to her days on Mary Tyler Moore and Password with Allen Ludden, her late husband. I always thought she had a particularly bright sparkle in her eyes, and I really enjoyed her nutty sense of humor. Over the years she became a role model, and one that I was to carry into all aspects of my life.

For almost 20 years I spent much of my time in front of a college classroom, teaching things like English Composition, Speech Communications, Psychology, Sociology, Human Relations, Leadership, Group Communications, Contemporary Issues, and, believe it or not, a group of courses in the specific computer programs relating to Graphic Arts, Typography, and Design Principles. Oh, and I designed and taught courses in Advertising Principles and Ad Campaigns.

Because I have led a completely insane life, and dug into so many different areas of interest, I am actually qualified to teach every one of those classes. Most of them I designed and wrote from scratch. I had one prerequisite for each classroom I entered: It had to be fun.

Since a lot of my classes were for evening school or taught in a Fine Arts curriculum, they were about four hours long. In that time frame, there was no way I could rattle off some horribly dry lecture or slide show narration and keep anyone interested, or even awake. My motto in front of a classroom full of mostly strangers was simple - If I'm not having fun, you're not learning anything.

I describe my classes as four hour long stand-up comedy routines. I would climb on desks, give students bags of children's blocks to build with, and tell many funny stories (most of which had something to do with the topic at hand). I drew cartoons on the board to illustrate points and let the class play "warmer - colder" to figure out how operant conditioning worked. I honestly think my face is practically wrinkle-free because I used it in clown-like fashion to amuse and inform students about my feelings on either some of my topics or some of their answers!

I taught more than one speech class to stand up in a line at the front of the room and practice, and learn, the basic five positions in classical ballet. Of course the Academic Dean always walked in on exercises like that one. He would just smile, shake his head, and leave. I allowed students in my speech class to demonstrate "dance moves for when you're drunk on Saturday night," how to make origami frogs, and the art of the six-foot-hoagie (which we then ate).

For Business English, we made up a pretend product. The only guidelines were that it had to be advertised on an infomercial after 2:00 AM, and that a B-list celebrity had to be the spokesperson. Then the students had to write two letters - one ordering the product, complete with how they were going to pay the three easy payments of $19.95 and in what size, color, or including what set of attachments they wanted it - and the other letter to inform the maker that something had gone terribly wrong with their thingamajig, and how they wanted the problem resolved. Yes, there were serious writing skills involved, but they loved doing it, as the product was utterly ridiculous.

I have brought into my classroom teddy bears, Barbie dolls, and jars of peanut butter. My lectures have involved pantomime, karate and blowing things up (at least we did that outdoors).

The owner of my school has never understood why I won't wear a business suit to class. You can't blow things up wearing a business suit.

I give long, challenging essay exams, with a liberal sprinkling of Hershey's Kisses, and broad hints if a question is not understood. I encourage students to use their books, notes, to call a friend or ask a stranger in the hall if they need help. I want them to know how to look for information, and I want them to actually learn it, not memorize nonsense bits for a fill-in-the-blanks series of questions.

I am sure there are many instructors I have worked with who think of me as more than a little strange. Good! That means the method to my madness is working. I have spent a number of years working with adolescent addiction groups, abused teens, and battered wives. I have had to learn many, many methods of detecting drug use or suicidal intentions. I have personally lived through domestic violence, an addicted ex-spouse, and the murder of a close friend. In all of this I have had the good fortune to discover that people learn and understand far better when they are smiling than they do when crying.

So thank you, Betty White, for letting me know that even the most serious of topics can have a funny side. Thank you for giving me permission to be incredibly silly in front of a group who needs to learn some very distressing information. Silliness has worked its magic, over and over again, where stern lectures would fall on purposely deaf ears.

I sincerely hope that when I reach 88, I can look back at my accomplishments in the classroom and in life, and laugh like crazy!