How does one honor the
career of a teacher like Dr. Evelyn Romig, who taught English and Literature for
44 years? I was her student four of those years at Howard Payne University in
Brownwood, TX. Honestly, she teaches me still. I loved Dr. Romig fiercely when
I was a college student. I took every class she offered. She was my adviser and
I spent time in her office being advised on academic matters and other things.
I often reflect on what her life means to me. My recollections and anecdotes here
will be personal, but I do not think they are unique.
I was 18 years old and a freshman
when I first met Dr. Romig. I was a Baptist ministerial student, majoring in
something from the School of Christianity. She was my British Literature
teacher. Because of things I had done in high school and because of how well I
tested on the ACT and SAT, I did not have to take the typical Freshman English
courses. I had no way of knowing at the time how much this small woman, an
English Literature professor and Methodist Sunday School teacher, would
influence my life and help me to become more like Jesus Christ.
Dr. Romig first caught my
attention, not in class, but through my best friend, Dan. He had her for a
Freshman composition class. One of Dan’s assignments was to keep some sort of
writer’s journal over a certain period and make regular entries. Of course, he
procrastinated and had to make a week’s worth of entries in one day. Along the
way he began writing nonsense, thinking there was no way a professor would read
every entry in every student’s notebook. Dan wrote in one entry, “I don’t think
Dr. Romig even reads all this stuff.” When he received back his graded
notebook, there, next to that entry, written in red in Dr. Romig’s handwriting
was: “She does!” Dan got an “F.”
Soon after this came a
pivotal moment that changed the course of my time at Howard Payne. It was in my
British Literature class, a survey course required of all students, and was therefore
a large class which met in one of the larger rooms in the Phelps Bible building.
We were reading and discussing some of the works of D. H. Lawrence, whose
writing many consider to be naughty. If memory serves, Dr. Romig was discussing
what made Lawrence so naughty. Why are some words acceptable and others so
obviously unacceptable?
“For instance,” Dr. Romig
said, “take the word ‘f**k,’ what is it about this word that makes it so
offensive?” I believe the question was rhetorical, which is just as well
considering it took several seconds for the students to register the fact that our
British Lit professor just dropped an F-bomb. In the stunned silence I sat up
and looked around. I suppose I was instinctively checking to see if any adult
had heard the bad word. After a brief time all the students were roused and Dr.
Romig had our attention. What else will she say? I wondered if that particular
word had ever been used before in a lecture in that room, in that building,
anywhere at any time on that campus?!
At some point my brain
began to process her question and consider her point. Why is that word so bad?
It is just a word spoken, thought, or written on a page. At some point English
speakers invested that word with meaning, and it was our choice to make the
word mean something naughty, offensive, and unacceptable. Dr. Romig, who acted
like an adult the whole time and had the courtesy to treat us as adults as
well, calmly explained that this was the thing that Lawrence fought against
through his writing. He challenged our ideas of obscenity. He was a rebel who
pushed the boundaries of our thinking at a time when doing so had grave
consequences. The more she spoke the more I realized that not only was I
listening, I was interested. I had
studied D. H. Lawrence before and never found him particularly interesting. But
this was different. Dr. Romig had found a way to engage a part of my mind that
had rarely been engaged in my education. She challenged me to think, to explore
new possibilities, to articulate what I thought and believed.
That was the day I knew I
needed to change my major to English and ask Dr. Romig to be my adviser. I sat
in her office, a little closet in the education building at that time, and
explained to her my desire to change my major. I am afraid I sounded like, “You
said the F-word in class. Heh heh. That was cool.” What I hope Dr. Romig heard
from me was, “You made me think. I liked it. I want more.” She seemed to be
delighted that a Baptist ministerial student wanted to major in English. She
was gracious and signed me up right away. I remember she had a twinkle in her
eye the whole time. It was like making a deal with Willy Wonka to explore his
chocolate factory. Come on in, kid, bring your courage and your imagination. We
have so much to see and so little time.
As I said, I took every
class with Dr. Romig I could: British Literature, Children’s Literature, Romantic
Literature, Victorian Literature, and Modern Poetry. It is difficult for me to
put into words here all I learned in those classes. I am not certain I can
separate what I learned at the time from what I have understood as the years have
passed. I now view literature, both poetry and prose, as a kind of diary of
humanity. In words of rhyme and rhythm, in paragraphs both beautiful and
confounding, literature reveals those things that have dwelt in the hearts and
minds of humans for as long as stories have been told and songs have been sung.
Literature expresses our thoughts,
feelings, motives, sins, hopes, and dreams as we struggle with the big
questions of life, death, meaning, love, identity, suffering, joy, beauty,
failure, and more. In literature we encounter people’s stories, and find our
stories are similar. We see ourselves. Dr. Romig served as a kind of guide, and
I learned to reflect, to listen, to question, to doubt, to challenge, and to
consider the possibilities. I was invited to recognize what I felt, what I
thought, and to express those thoughts and feelings in a way that others could
hear and think and reflect for themselves.
It is meaningful to me
that Dr. Romig found ways to express her faith in Christ as we faced together
all the raw beauty and ugliness humans have ever committed to words, poetry,
and prose. Her approach was hopeful and not cynical. I learned it is possible
to look deeply into my own heart, to see all the beauty and horror of which I
am capable, and not turn away in disgust or vainglory. I can see it for what it
is, I can name it, and accept that whatever I find in my heart at any given
time is just one small part of an overall story that is my life. I came to see
that God does not turn away from me when He finds me in all my raw humanity.
Nor does God draw closer to me when my life produces beauty. God is consistent
in his love toward me. It is Jesus that reveals the love and faithfulness of
God toward me, a sinner. These things were taught in the Bible classes, I’m
sure. But I learned them in my literature classes.
I have flashes of
memories as I reflect on Dr. Romig, such as the twinkle in her eyes, and the
way she loved to laugh. I learned I could get away with quite a bit in class
and on paper if I could make her laugh. I remember the time she had her
students to her house at Christmas and we met her young children. I remember
her recollection of the burning of Old Main and the personal toll it had on
her. Old Main housed her office and she lost all her notes in the fire, all her
files. After a time of desperate hopelessness while contemplating how to teach
literature without all the tools of her trade, Dr. Romig decided she either
knew the material well enough to teach it or she didn’t. She trusted the Lord
and went forward, learning and relearning to teach her courses anew as each
year passed instead of relying on her previous class notes. I remember the time
Dr. Romig audited The Life and Teachings of Jesus taught by Dr. Wallace Roark,
a Bible, Theology, and Philosophy professor. It was quite an experience to have
her as a student alongside me. I remember the day she was so frustrated at Dr.
Roark because he answered her questions with another question. She said, “I
want a straight answer!” Good luck lady. You are not the first student to break
upon the rocks of Dr. Roark’s teaching style.
The day I graduated from
Howard Payne was a warm, sunny day. After the ceremony people gathered outside
the Brownwood Coliseum, where graduation was held. I stood in the sun speaking
to Dr. Roark when Dr. Romig came to us and said, “I should have known I would
find you two together!” The three of us spoke for a few minutes. As we parted
Dr. Romig told me that she would follow my career with great interest. I was
honored. And she has. She was an encouragement to me when I was struggling to
finish my dissertation. She sent words of genuine joy when I completed my
doctorate. As I endured the reality of Hurricane Harvey along with my church
and community in the fall of 2017, she would send words of encouragement and
support. She was always hopeful.
I am certain my experience
with Dr. Romig is not uncommon. She was a popular teacher with a reputation for
being challenging, but fair. She was something very special in the classroom.
She was a teacher that was passionate and hopeful about the possibilities her
academic field offered to her students. And she was a teacher who loved her
students as Jesus loved his. Dr. Romig challenged me to see myself and all
things differently without fear. This is no small thing in a Texas Baptist school
in the early 1990s. She showed me things about Jesus and about people no one
else was teaching me at that time. I know those teachers were there for other
students, but I learned from Dr. Romig. She was fearless and imaginative. Over
time she made me trust her. She helped me feel safe while asking questions. In
the end, the paths she placed me on, while unconventional, always brought me
close to the heart of God and the character of Jesus. I was never led astray.
Thank you, Dr. Romig, for
allowing God to use you to shape my life. I was listening, more often than not.
Congratulations on your retirement. May the Lord bless you and keep you; may the
Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you; may the Lord turn his
face toward you and give you peace.
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