Clarence Learns What to Leave Undone

Ignoring Non-essential Options

Ridofranz photo

"You want to take this Spanish course?" asked Professor Browning in precise diction. He took a quick glance over his reading glasses at Clarence. "How can you? You can't even speak English clearly. "

"D ... D ... Dat's ... dat's true," Clarence stammered. His stutter crackled in the muffled silence of the language lab. "But, I'm ... I'm ... in ... I'm in Letters and Science -- pre-journalism."

"Hm-m-m," Professor Browning murmured, folding his arms across a belly that protruded beyond his black belt.

"I ... I ... I need a foreign language," Clarence said weakly, trying to fill the awkward silence.

Professor Browning looked at Clarence again. This time their eyes met. "Someday I'll con ... con ... conquer my ...my stutter," Clarence said more confidently.

"Well --," Professor Browning allowed, rubbing his left hand over his fleshy jowl. Clarence could tell his mind was racing to fathom all the problems as well as the possibilities of a predicament he had never faced before.

Professor Browning was a big man in a black, ill-fitting suit and an not-ironed white shirt. His graying hair, which covered only the sides and back of his balding head, was uncombed. How could a man with such a sloppy appearance become a professor of languages?

But Clarence watched with envy as his lips moved effortlessly and precisely when he finally said, "Let me think more about it. I'll get back to you on Thursday."

"Thanks," Clarence replied, glad he was going to at least give his circumstances some thought but, at the same time, concerned about how he was going to get through his course with a passing grade. "I'd appre ... appre ... appreciate any help you can give me."

Clarence went back to his cubicle and placed the headset over his ears just like the other 12 students in Spanish 101. His first day of class as a sophomore at Platteville State University was about to begin.

The earphones didn't bother Clarence. It was the microphone in front of him that made him squirm. How could he roll his "R's" with others in the class when he could not even pronounce the "th" sound in English correctly? He didn't say a word throughout the whole class that first day as the others began their first drills.

"¿Hable' Español? ¡Si', hablo Español! ¿Hable' Español? ¡Si', hablo Español! ¿Hable' Español? ¡Si', hablo Español!"

The first drills reminded Clarence of the long rows of hay he and his dad had baled that summer on his family's farm of rolling hills in south-central Wisconsin. Once in the seat of the 540 IH tractor, he would put it in third gear and guide it down the wind row with the baler behind the tractor and the wagon behind the baler.

The baler would spit out bales of hay, bound by binder twine, as Clarence went down the wind row and kick them back into the three-sided wagon, where his dad would retrieve them and stack them neatly into the wagon.

For Clarence, baling on alfalfa fields in the flat was enjoyable at first but soon became boring as the baler repeatedly would gobble up the hay and throw out a finished bale with a "chunk ... chunk ... chunk ... chunk" sound.

But turning the corner at the end of rows on the hillsides was not boring. It was more frightening and more dangerous than on the level because the strips of hay followed the contours of the field. Despite power steering on the tractor, Clarence would sometimes swing too wide on the corners and miss part of the wind row.

Disgusted, Clarence's dad would stand on the wagon, motioning him to cut his corners shorter.

After all the wind rows in a field were gone, Clarence would compensate for his sloppy turns and chase down the little wisps of hay he had left behind. And his dad would stand on the wagon, shaking his head about the extra time and energy Clarence was using to gather the bits of hay he should have gotten on the first go-around.

“Besides the noble art of getting things done, there is the noble art of leaving things undone. The wisdom of life consists in the elimination of non-essentials.” — Lin Yutang

But, for Clarence, keeping up with the drills in Spanish class that first day of class was even more frightening than baling hay on hilly land. How could he keep up with a class which moved into progressively more complicated phases and put so much emphasis on verbal skill? By the end of the hour, his mind was numb and his head was pounding.

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Dressed in the same sloppy, black suit, Professor Browning came to the lab on Thursday with another question about Clarence's predicament. "Why are you taking this course, Mr. Chaney?" he demanded.

"It's a requirement," Clarence again repeated without thinking.

"Is that the only reason?" he again questioned, this time with disappointment. Clarence felt his whole body stiffen.

"I'm going ... going into j--j--journalism," he finally got out.

"So, why do you need Spanish for journalism?" Professor Browning again asked. He looked Clarence in the eye. A frown had appeared between his bushy, black eyebrows.

"To learn how to write better?" Clarence lazily concluded.

"You got it," he shouted. His puffy face brightened. "Learning a second language will help you write well in English. You'll learn how the English language works. I'm willing to forego the verbal requirement of this course in your case. I'll grade you on your written work."

"That's fine," Clarence agreed, amazed at the extra edge Professor Browning was giving him just because of his disability.

Clarence was relieved that his predicament had been resolved. Yes, in his case, speaking Spanish fluently was a nonessential option.

At the same time, he was uncomfortable, knowing that he was getting a break other students in the class would not receive. In 1962, the level playing field was not really level. And it could be tilted both ways, depending on a person's circumstances.

Clarence studied diligently for the course and did well on the written exams, but he could not compensate for the fact that Professor Browning had tilted the field in his favor. Clarence didn’t realize it at the time that his Spanish 101 experience foreshadowed the controversy about affirmative action that would surround higher education for decades.

At the end of the semester, Clarence received a "B" in Spanish 101.

Now, 60 years later, Clarence recognizes Professor Browning's (and his dad's) enduring wisdom of knowing what to overlook in the classroom (and in the hay field).

But, at 78, Clarence also wonders about this: Does living as a mature adult with newly acquired limitations give an individual the unique opportunity to discover (out of necessity) what is essential and what can become an option in what others may view as tough situations?

Clarence's takeaway tip from his story: Cherish the perspective we now possess as mature adults that allows us to ignore non-essential options in everyday living as we deal with newly acquired vulnerabilities.

Here’s to mature-adult living!

Jim Hasse, ABC, GCDF retired, author of “52 Shades of Graying”
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