Recently I’ve been realizing that while I’ve been able to interview students for the Faces of I.U.P. blog, I hadn’t been able to reach out to the faculty and staff here at I.U.P. Unlike students whom you can always randomly pull aside and sit down with to talk, professors don’t always have the same luxury. They have places they need to be, papers to grade, life to live beyond the classroom just as much as any student. I have to be just as—if not more than—accommodating to them and their schedules.
The professor whom I interviewed for this post has been one of my professors this semester. I asked him ahead of time if he’d be willing to sit down with me and be an interviewee for my blog. He agreed kindly, and we decided to meet after his office hours had finished up and before my Math class would start on Monday. We met up in the library, and we made our way outside in the Oak Grove. After lighting a cigarette, my professor sat down with me on one of the benches in front of the Performing Arts Center. We then began the interview.
“How do you want me to refer to you?” I asked my professor. “On your syllabus you go by A.J. Schmitz. However your real name is Andrew.”
“It is,” he said, “but A.J. is fine.”
I smiled, and went on with the interview. “In class you mentioned that you are a Grad Student. What are you a Grad Student in?”
“I’m a PhD candidate. Which means I’m working on my doctorate. I’ve been out of coursework for two years. I’m currently working on my dissertation proposal. All the while I’m basically teaching English 101 courses.”
“Is the doctorate you’re trying to go for in English?”
“It’s in English Literature,” he clarified for me.
“Cool,” I responded, making note of that fact. I then went on and asked, “Where are you from?”
“I’m from a little town in LA called El Segundo. It is right by the LAX. But for the past four years I’ve been living here in beautiful, wonderful Indiana in Western PA.”
“That leads me to my next question,” I responded to him. I had been meaning to ask him this question for quite some time. Now was the perfect opportunity. “How does a guy from California end up here?”
“I’m in a very long-term relationship. My girlfriend got into the Criminology department here. Since I wanted to be with her, I applied into I.U.P. and I got in. They gave me tuition waivers and they let me work at the university through a professor. I was like, ‘Why not? Honey, let’s go.’”
“How did you meet your girlfriend?”
A.J. tilted his head to the side, and his eyes took on a far-out look. “In community college, we met outside of an audition for a main-stage production of A Comedy of Errors by William Shakespeare. I didn’t know how long everything was going to take and I was outside, moderately freaking out. I needed a cigarette. She was sitting outside in a gorgeous green dress, and she was talking with a friend and smoking a cigarette. I said, ‘This is my chance to talk to a pretty lady and get a cigarette!’ That’s how we met. Then we both got cast for the same show we were going out for, and we started dating very shortly after that. Come Wednesday the 22nd, we would have been together for fourteen years.”
(Going to take a few moments to congratulate Professor Schmitz and his girlfriend on fourteen years. That’s something to commemorate. Hope there’s many more to follow!)
Not going to lie, I was pretty impressed. “Wow. Fourteen years! I guess when you said it was long-term, I can definitely see why you said if she wanted to come here, you would come here.”
“Yeah,” A.J. smiled as he agreed.
I decided to see if I could find out more about his past. “I take it you were an English major in college?”
“Yes. When I first went to college I was a Theater major. For some reason I thought, ‘Hey, I would like to actually get a paycheck!’ So I decided to go into the best (that’s sarcasm) discipline, and that’s English Literature. Which is dying! That’s what it was, and I’ve been taking English classes since I was an Undergrad. I wasn’t even supposed to be taking English classes, since I took all Advanced Placement English courses in high school. I didn’t need to take one English class. Even so, I took Literature classes.”
“So you said you were originally a Theater major, did you graduate as a Theater major?”
“No, very shortly after I got to college I figured out that that was a hobby. It wasn’t that I wasn’t good at it, it was just after I transferred out of the community college that I went and got into the institution—Cal Long Beach—where I got my Bachelors. I declared not-Theater. I declared English Literature because again, I thought it was a better idea.”
“Why did you decide you wanted to get a doctorate in English Literature?” I asked him, my curiosity boiling like a vat of soup over a stove.
“I love college. I love being around college architecture, and the people. I’m in my thirties and I still feel like I’m not. The only way I can stay in college without being a student is to teach at a college. Which I’m doing now! The only way to do that effectively is to get a doctorate. Without a doctorate, how can I talk about books for the rest of my life? Right? That’s really why I’m doing it.”
“You really love books?” I asked. Not because I myself don’t like books, but I wanted to see how much he did.
“I do!” he exclaimed. “I do! I enjoy reading. I don’t get to do it very often anymore. I do a lot of scatter-shot reading which is where I’m reading bits and pieces of things that I know are going to help me, so I can get the gist of a lot of things. The last time I sat down and just read a book, was my coursework a couple of years ago. I do enjoy them. They do really nice ascetically. My girlfriend and I- in our apartment- she has more DVDs than books. My books are overtaking her DVDs, and my records, and my other stuff. They just look good out there. Books are great.”
“Once you get your doctorate, where do you plan on going from here?”
“That’s really not up to me. The state of higher education being what it is, it’s kind of up to what institutions are hiring, and would we be happy living there? Since she’s in higher education too- she’s getting her doctorate this Tuesday, hopefully-”
“Oh congrats to her!” I exclaimed.
“Congrats to her indeed,” A.J. agreed before continuing on. “But she is a little ahead of me, and wherever she can get hired—she’s looking into getting a job where we can both live. She and I kind of want to live in or around a city. We don’t want to live in Florida since it’s a horrible state—especially with the laws. Apparently it’s okay to shoot Black people there. There’s certain deal-breakers. We don’t want to live in the Dakotas. But basically if there’s a college that will hire us for a tenure-track position—which basically means more money and security—that’s where we’ll be heading.”
“Since she has to find work after she gets her doctorate, do you guys think you’ll have to leave I.U.P. immediately afterward?”
“We’re hoping she might be a shoe-in for another year here. Ten to one says I’ll be rehired here at I.U.P for next year. There’s no guarantee for me, and there’s actually no guarantee for her but she’s a good prospect. She’s actually been a prospect for several months and there’ve been no biters.”
He laughed, “That kind of shows the state of higher education. She’s well-qualified and she has really good stuff. It’s just who is hiring and how many instructors. We might still be here for another year. You might see me in K-Mart working behind the counter. You don’t know.”
We both laughed. At that moment, a question came to mind regarding how he and his girlfriend didn’t intend on living in Florida. Having had him in class, I recalled the amount of social justice issues we had discussed in class. I decided to ask him, “How did you come to be passionate about social justice issues?”
“Passionate isn’t really the word,” he told me. “I’m logical. I’m a logical person. A lot of the arguments for and against the whole Trayvon Martin thing, or what was going on last semester in Ferguson—and still on-going—Eric Garner and all this stuff, just isn’t logical. It’s not logical that someone can be basically murdered and it’s okay.
“There was a story in the news where a guy ran away from a traffic stop and he got shot a couple of times in his back. I understand that he messed up, he shouldn’t have run because he was worried about child support papers and a warrant. He shouldn’t have run. Did he need to be killed? No. Does a seventy-three-year-old man need to be carrying a gun and working on an arms sting in Oklahoma and ‘accidentally’ shoot an unarmed civilian? No. This is illogical.
“Some say, ‘Well the cops are supposed to have this kind of authority.’ Well then don’t abuse it. This isn’t a religious issue—this isn’t even really a moral issue, though morality is attached to it. I just don’t understand. I don’t get it. Why is this okay somehow? I do see how it’s because of institutional racism, institutional gender-bias, and because it is institutional homophobia. It’s because of institutional all of these negative things. We’ve normalized these negative things, and we can’t get out from under it because that means it is someone else’s fault, right? No! There needs to be culpability. This is why this is just illogical. This is why it makes no sense to me, and that’s why I care about it.
“Going back to your question,” A.J. continued, “Why am I passionate about it? It’s because I don’t understand why more people aren’t. I want other people to be outraged, if there should be something to be outraged about. We shouldn’t care if Kylie Jenner has fake lips on Instagram. But more people know more about that than what’s going on than what effects their life and their freedom.
“To that point too. Should the government be looking at our e-mails? My god! No, they shouldn’t. But are you doing anything wrong? No! What do you have to worry about? We have to give up certain things to live in a society. Some of the things we need to give up is a little bit of privacy. That’s fine, as long as we don’t let crazy people own guns and end up shooting Black people when he’s already been told not to follow people. Again. Let’s argue and get upset about the right things.”
“Having come from a city-area, did you ever witness something similar to what you described happen?” I asked him.
“Where I’m actually from is like Maybury—if you ever watch the Andy Griffith Show. It’s a very White town, at the time my brother-in-law—who wasn’t my brother-in-law at the time—he used to get escorted by the police whenever he would go to pick up my sister. You can tell that they thought he didn’t belong there, that he was out-of-place because he was Black. I’ve been followed because I looked a certain way and drove a certain car. Those are the facts of life. I’ve never seen anyone been shot, or anyone who was beat up. I’ve had friends who’ve been picked-up, friends who have been thrown in jail for stupid reasons. I see those kinds of things, but I never witnessed anything firsthand.”
I nodded in understanding. Satisfied with that topic, I wanted to see if I could round a little more of his story. I thought for a few moments about the next question I should ask. Professor Schmitz took a drag from his cigarette meanwhile. After I thought, I went on and asked, “How did you become passionate about English Literature?”
“I don’t know. That’s a good question, and I wish I had an answer for you. I enjoy the way that authors are able to construct these worlds. I like telling stories. I like people who can tell a good story. I think that has something to do with it. I like language too. My girlfriend and I will get into arguments if she uses a word wrong and we’re just watching Revenge on television. She gets mad at me for doing that. Language is such a powerful thing. It can move mountains but it can also do other really negative things. We need to give it the kind of reverence that it deserves. That’s what authors do- really good authors I mean. There are some really bad authors out there. There are people who get their books published and I don’t understand why. It’s just because I really like language.
“To a certain extent I also am intellectually curious. I like learning new things. I’m also very intellectually vain. I’ll sometimes be like, ‘Oh didn’t you read that?’ Or I’ll be like, “I read the paper today…,” or “I was reading Newsweek…” Or, “I saw online and I read this article.” Or “Haven’t you read James Joyce’s The Dubliners? It’s like that story, The Dead. Making those kinds of connections, there’s a certain level of intellectual vanity in me that I really like having lording that over. Mainly it’s because I really like language. Which is portrayed by my frequent and profuse of profanity!”
We both broke out and laughter. “When I had you the first day in class, one of the first words in your mouth was a profanity.” (So as to safeguard Professor Schmitz I won’t mention what word. Those of you who know or have had him though, you can probably guess.)
“Strategically,” Professor Schmitz confirmed.
“Why are you more willing to express openly your actual thoughts compared to most professors?”
“I think it’s because of the environment that I want to create in the classroom. It is free. I want all of my students to be free to express themselves as openly. If I set that example, and I’m not going to say the first thing that comes to my head or something that I’m not passionate about or sound excited about it, I want that bleed into what my students do. I want that to bleed into what they do in the classroom. When I was teaching Literature, I had a little more lee-way. The students were older and they weren’t as frightened of the college experience. They were like, ‘This is great!’ I’ve noticed that with some of my younger students-- the first and second semester freshmen—they’re a little more resistant to it. They see the novelty of it, but they don’t see what I’m doing it. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or bad thing, but that’s why. I want you guys to think that I’m approachable and accessible. I want to show you guys that if you need to express yourselves in the way you need to express yourselves you can—if nowhere else—my classroom.”
“Is that a policy you will carry with you in the future?”
“Yes!” he declared with certainty. “I will never change this! I might have to tailor it a bit, but I’m never going to change that. It’s part of my pedagogue. It is part of the way I teach. It is part of what I think my peers and my students see as effective. I’m not going to change that. I wouldn’t change that.”
“I also notice that in your classes you try to get people to critically think,” I said.
He laughed. “Ha! Try to!”
I laughed too. Continuing on with my question though, I asked, “Why is that important to you that your students learn to critically think?”
“Let’s go with it on an institutional level. I.U.P. demands that English 101 prepares students to think critically. It gets you guys ready for all of your other classes. That’s why English 101 is different than Crim 101 or Bio 101. I’m not giving you terms, phrases and stuff that teach you about the human body or Limbrozo’s Positive Theory. It’s so when you guys get up to that Crim 101 class that you will think critically. It’s a mandate from the institution.
“Now for me personally, it’s the only thing that you’re in college for. You guys are going to spend to 50-100K on a Bachelor’s Degree. Which literally means nothing in the society that we live in! You have to have a Master’s Degree or higher! A Bachelor’s Degree means you can work in an office. If you learn how to think critically, you can take that next step. If you learn how to think critically, you can ultimately be more hire-able. If you know how to think critically, you will ultimately not only be more hire-able- but more promote-able! You will be that person who will be in charge because you are critically thinking. That’s what’s important.”
At that moment, one of A.J.’s former students came up to us. That student was Khailil Edwards (whom I’ve interviewed before. If you haven’t already, you should definitely check out that post.) After Khalil greeted Professor Schmitz and me, he asked me, “Is he doing the same thing? The Faces of I.U.P.?”
“Yep,” I confirmed.
He laughed and began heading in the direction of the library. “Did you read mine?” he asked Professor Schmitz, walking backwards as he did so that he was still looking at Professor Schmitz.
“Nope! You got to send me the link!” A.J. responded to him, laughing.
After Khalil had gone away, I asked Professor Schmitz, “What do you think about running into your students in public?”
He thought for a few moments. “It’s awkward when I’m at a bar,” he admitted.
I laughed, but listened as he told me, “On campus it’s part of the experience. My class doesn’t stop at 9:55 at the door to Eicher 106. My class is here. Khalil walks by and he goes to Lit Night. Whenever he sees me on campus he says hi and he tells me how he’s doing. I see you often. Former students see me and tell me what’s going on. When I see them out and about, I like to continue to let them know that I’m human and that I am approachable. That they can say hi to me! You can ask me what I’m teaching next semester. It’s important! It’s a pedagogue I set up about being accessible. But—at a certain time of night, in a certain situation-- it can be kind of awkward. Usually around 11:30 on a Friday or God forbid a Wednesday, it can be a little awkward. How else are you going to learn though? How else are you going to learn that your professors are human too? We need to blow off steam the same way you need to blow off steam as students. We’ve all been there. Ours is just a bigger bag. Ours is just another hassle that we need to think about and deal with. The sooner that our students learn we aren’t all crotchety, crusty old people; that will build a better dynamic in a classroom setting.”
“Cool.” I said.
That was when I decided to go on and ask him—since he had mentioned that Khalil goes to Lit Night at the Artists Hand Gallery and Espresso Bar—a question about his past with the event (which is actually coming up this Friday—those of you who want to go to it. Starts at 6:30pm if I’m not mistaken. Last one of the semester too!) “How did you get involved with Lit Night?”
“A little over a year ago a buddy of mine texted me saying: ‘One of my friends is reading his poems at the Artists Hand.’ That’s all it was. ‘My friend is an okay poet. There will be lots of other poets there. It seems like the kind of thing you will be interested in.’
“This was a friend of mine who didn’t really know me at the time: Wes. (He is the other host.) We saw the potential and we decided to continue on doing it. The gentleman whom we saw on the first night has never showed up again. One of the other poets—Amanda—is constantly there. Wes and I were just like, ‘This needs to happen!’ I wasn’t teaching at the time and I just threw a lot of energy into it. It was something we saw that this town needed. We needed to show the community and the school that they rely on each other. We figured, why not show the community what we can do? Why not the community show us what they can do? That’s how it got started.”
He paused before continuing on, “A year later—from days where there were only seven to eight people there—it’s turned to forty to fifty students. There’s been a couple of times where there’s been sixty to seventy students. It’s grown exponentially and it’s moved beyond the English department! Crim students go there. Soc students go there. Art students go there. A lot of different people show up because it’s a nice change of pace, it’s interesting, and everybody has a story to tell. After a couple of drinks (when you’re of age) everyone wants to share. It’s very much like the classroom setting that I was talked about. It’s acceptable and it’s comfortable. It is safe. Nothing bad is going to happen there. As a matter of fact, if you express yourself, it doesn’t matter what you do afterward. You did something for yourself and you shared a bit of yourself to other people. We overshare, but not in person. Through media projects and social media. It’s too much sharing of ourselves. I don’t want to know what you’re eating today. I don’t want to know what happened to you while you were in line at the bank. Real sharing is soul-crushing stuff that literature helps us to articulate—that kind of sharing is rare. I’m unhappy that it only happens once a month. I wish we could do it more. I wish people would go to Lit Night.
A.J. continued, “I’ve heard it told, and I’ve heard someone say this while at Take Back the Night—that my class and my work at Lit Night has given them a voice and allowed them to articulate the most painful of things, and they took advantage of that! They started the healing. Literally when I heard that it made me cry. It was like, ‘Thank you!’ If I were to die right now, I would have one hundred fifty people-who aren’t related to me-- wonder, ‘Oh my god! That happened!’ At least I hope. I know about seven to eight, handful, who will take it to heart.
“Isn’t that what Homer talked about in the Iliad? Isn’t that what Achilles was doing in Troy? To have glory after death? This is my way of having people remember me-- without having to kill people! Even if it’s just that one time in college.”
Honestly, if I could have, I would have talked to him for much longer. Unfortunately, I had a class and when I looked at my phone to check the time I realized I only had ten minutes to get to it. I drew the interview to an end and thanked Professor Schmitz for letting me interview him.
“Thank you,” he told me sincerely.
Once I had taken his picture, I put my stuff in my bag and he put out his cigarette. After talking for about a minute, he and I said farewell until Wednesday. “Be sure to send me the link when you have it done,” he told me. “Send Khalil’s too.”
“I will,” I promised him.
Before I wrap this post up, I do want to say that I’m very grateful to Professor Schmitz. Not only for having taken the time out of his schedule to take part in an interview with me, but also for all that he has taught me this semester. Now that we are in the final two weeks of the semester, I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting. I don’t plan on ever forgetting a professor’s face or name. All of my teachers are close to me in some way. However, I can say that Professor Schmitz is among a few college professors I’ve had whom I will always remember. In the time that he has been here you can tell the kind of impact he has had not only here on campus—but in the community as well. I know that wherever life take him and his girlfriend, that he will continue to have an impact on people’s lives. He is among the professors whom I hope I can continue to keep in frequent touch with.
Unfortunately we have reached the end of this post. Which is a bummer. Not only because it’s on Professor Schmitz, but because this is my first post about an I.U.P. professor! However, I do want to say that I do plan on interviewing a couple more professors here shortly. Of course, there are still other students (both grad and undergrad) with stories to encounter as well. No worries, we’re not done yet.
Until next time though, I’ll catch you all later!