B.J. SMITH
Upper School English Teacher &
English Department Chair, 1997–2008
There is no greater skill than to say exactly what you mean and have it understood. That’s why Charles Wright teaches students to think and write with clarity, individuality, and style. In constellation around this center are other supporting skills such as literary reading, grammar competency, public speaking, and research, but the heart of the English department is sound critical thinking and articulate analytical writing.

Emily's drive-bys
We were at the beginning of the (infamous? notorious?) junior research paper, and Emily was stumped by the very complex style and ideas of her author.  She came to my office with the crumpled xeroxes of his two short stories: lots of underlining; the margins of the pages filled with comments in three colors, with question marks and exclamation points.  She shoved the pages towards me, eyes wide with desperation.  She cried out, "I can't do it.  I don't get them.  Here, what's this story about?"  Of course, the rule is I ask the questions; I don't give the answers.  The project is meant to develop independent thinking and interpretation.  The research is supposed to allow students to see how scholars and professionals read the author, to take these critical interpretations and assess how they can help in interpreting the stories for the project.  There were several of these desperate "conferences".  I asked lots of questions.  There was a good deal of silence in response.  Then, the silences began being filled with tentative responses.  Then, she started coming in the door talking, hurling herself into the chair, presenting opportunities for questions that she would have or could get the answers to. But, it is the final stage that I remember best: the drive-bys.  Emily would stick her head in the door make a pronouncement about her latest insight and take off down the hall.  The ideas were like deadly accurate bullets: confident, on-target, the product of the steady skill of the thinker: she had figured out, to her own satisfaction, the author's vision.  I loved those drive-bys even though they killed me.  In fact, they were what all good education aims for:  the independent, self-motivated learner who doesn't need a teacher anymore.  Emily had learned how to think, how to use curiousity and questions and books (and data bases!) to find answers, how to persevere through ignorance and confusion to ideas, how to become her own teacher. 

Of course, she's not the only one.  My years at Charles Wright in the West Wing have been filled with young men and women who have come into their own as thinkers and writers.  They are and will be my most cherished memories of this place and this time.