Dr. Tuchak was born in the Ukraine but ended up teaching political science at the University of Southern Mississippi. I attended graduate school there, worked on a Ph.d., and my major professor ended up being a foreigner. I didn't study a lot of Russian government, had no interest in it, but Dr. Tuchak was a comparative government specialist who taught me a lot about the governments of Europe, and that included more about Russia than I wanted to know. I did that because I didn't do well on my qualifying exam for entrance into the program, at least not concerning international politics and comparative government. Dr. Tuchak's first words to me upon reviewing my exam scores were, "You have deep gaps in your knowledge, but we shall rectify the problem." And, he did. Over the next 18 months I took a half dozen courses and seminars with Dr. Tuchak, and I'm proud to say that I came away from the with all A's. Better yet, he liked me, even invited me to his home to have vodka with him.
I left the university where Dr. Tuchak taught and seldom went back. A classmate called me sometime in the early 70s to tell me that my favorite professor had died suddenly of a heart attack. He remained a bachelor until he was about sixty, then met a Ukrainian widow woman living in south Mississippi and married her. I grieved some over his death, partly because I loved and admired the man and partly because I thought he deserved more time here on earth. But while here, he did his job well. I never intended to be a specialist in international politics or comparative governments, but ended up being qualified to teach those courses at the college level . . . and I did for many years . . . and I owe that to a man who started life far away from where he met and taught me.
Ok, I know you're thinking, "Well, what's your point?" It's this: I learned a lot from a man who spoke my language poorly, wasn't a great lecturer, but was still an outstanding professor. He knew the trick in getting people to learn - point the direction and the demand results. The best held information we have comes to us in strange ways, but it sticks best when we root it out ourselves under proper direction. After reading my first research paper for him, Dr. Tuchak said, "You are a very good writer. You write much better than you talk, and we need to work on that." He couldn't teach me to talk because he didn't do well at that himself, but he'd sometimes scowl at me and say, "Don't be lazy! Sit up straight, hold up your head, and speak clearly. You will be a fine professor when you learn to talk."
I practiced at talking once I got out on my own and started teaching. It took me several years to learn how to speak well, and it took me even more years to learn to say things people could listen to. And I became the kind of professor Dr. Tuchak was . . . I didn't lead or prod; I pointed the direction, gave instructions, and then expected results. And like him, I was a tough grader. Nobody got A's in my class for shoddy work, and I wasn't timid about giving F's to people who wouldn't study. He was a stern man in many ways, and so was I. But he was also a compassionate, caring man, especially when he saw that a student wanted to learn. Yes, Dr. William Tuchak was a foreigner, but he sure wasn't foreign to what it took to be a good professor.
No comments:
Post a Comment