https://www.americanthinker.com/articles/2018/08/a_teachers_lament_then_and_now.html
In his 1962 essay titled “A Dog in Brooklyn, a Girl in Detroit: A Life among the Humanities,” from The Age of Happy Problems, Herbert Gold recounts how “neither glory nor pleasure nor power, and certainly not wisdom, provided the goal of [the] students” he attempted to instruct.
Attempting to teach a college-level humanities course, Gold “could classify [his] students in three general groups, intelligent, mediocre, and stupid, allowing for the confusions of three general factors – background, capacity, and interest.”
Reminiscing about his attempt to motivate young people, Gold admits that he “often failed at inspiring [his] students to do the assigned reading. Many of them had part-time jobs in the automobile industry or its annexes.” Thus, the plaintive “I couldn’t read the book this week, I have to work” reverberated in the classroom with “its implied reproach for a scholar’s leisure.” Continuing to describe the paradoxes of teaching in a university, Gold finds little common ground between himself and his students.
When he attempted to explain Seurat’s “La Grande Jatte” and the “importance of … pointillism to students who only wanted to see life clear and true, see it comfortably,” he encountered students who asserted that “this kind of painting hurt [their] eyes.” In addition, students clamored that “there was too much reading for one course – ‘piling it on. This isn’t the only course we take.'”
Then, in the middle of his essay, Gold details how, in front of the school building, a skidding truck sideswiped a taxi, and the cab “was smashed like a cruller.” From the door of his cab, the driver emerged, stumbling holding his head. There was blood on his head and hands. He was in confusion and in shock – “[d]rivers turned their heads upon him … but did not get involved.”