His name was Dr. Gorsuch, and he was a history professor. When I took his class, I understood why so few people remained in the class after a couple of weeks into the semester. He was definitely a hard taskmaster, with lots of reading and work. His exams were monstrous, but he was a fair grader. When he asked me to consider a second class with him, I had to think about it, although I earned an A in the first class. Did I want to work that hard again when there were easier professors to take?
I decided to take his class in Primary Sources, which was incredibly taxing to the nervous system. One day, our class went to the Carter Center in Atlanta to learn about their archives. He gave me a ride back to the campus, and I asked him the question that was uppermost in my mind. I asked, “Dr. Gorsuch, why are your classes so hard?”
I thought he wouldn’t answer. But, he smiled and responded, “That’s how I separate the wheat from the chaff. I know that everyone who remains in my courses either have to be there or want to be there.” I was amazed at the thought of designing a class that, in effect, got rid of students who were not interested in the course.
He told me that I was wheat. I was a sociology major, and I took his courses as electives. But he made learning exciting. I enjoyed the work and the way that he presented it. It was a lot of work, but you knew that when you received an A from Dr. Gorsuch, you deserved it. He didn’t curve exams.
When I became a professor, I wanted to be like him. I wanted my students to know that they must earn the respect of professors and not expect to be given grades they have not worked hard to earn. I found myself not as hard in terms of reading, but I expect critical thinking and critical writing skills because I want students to feel that they got their money’s worth and enjoyed themselves in the process. I look to separate the wheat from the chaff.
I want to always be wheat and never considered as chaff, meaning someone who occupies a seat and doesn’t try to be as good as possible. When I earned my doctorate, I saw him at the ceremony. I went over and thanked him for engendering in me a desire to always be the best I can be, not choosing easy courses or easy professors,. Instead, I was willing to work hard to accomplish my goals in a way that honored the hard work my professors put into designing their courses.
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Help from Heaven 
Well done. I’ve always regretted that I never went for a conference with my favorite teacher even though he kept saying he wanted to talk to me about my writing..I don’t know why I never did. Crazy. Finally, he wrote a note on my final paper: “Your stories will probably be discounted by others in your class who know how to put words down on paper but not how to write, but You Know How To Write! So do something about it.” Later I saw a book by him in the poetry center in L.A. and got a twinge. I’m sure he is long dead. He was my writing professor on World Campus Afloat when I was 19. There were professors and kids from all over the U.S. on a boat that went around the world. College classes in between stops while afloat. Changed my life.
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Judy,
I believe your art was meant to be as much as your writing. Quite possible if you had become a writer, we would have missed out on your other creative genius. What a great way to go to college!
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I did major in creative writing in college so I did keep writing.
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You got a great teacher- one who really wants to teach
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