An hour later the classroom has filled in. It’s a smaller class, about ten students, so I had rearranged the furniture into a circle ahead of class to help discussion. I sit at the top of the circle.
“Welcome to Literature for Young Adults, or YA Lit as I’ll refer to it going forward. I’m Daniel.”
“Are you American?” A kid two chairs down asks.
“That I am. And you are?”
“Samuel. From Galway.”
I sigh. “Alright. Let’s get this out of the way. Before we jump into the syllabus, get all your random questions out of the way.”
“Do you like living there? Seems like a shite place to live sometimes.”
“Sometimes it’s fine. Sometimes the government fucking sucks and it’s nice to take a bit of a breather in another country. Your name?”
“Delilah”
“Nice to meet you, Delilah. Who’s next?”
The girl to my right raises her hand. “Name’s Lily. Where do you live in the States?”
“Connecticut. A town called Wethersfield.”
“Follow up question. Is there something interesting about Connecticut?”
I pause, trying to think of something. Niall’s already shit on the whole pizza capital thing. Mentioning the Huskies won’t mean anything to them. That we likely have the most insurance jobs per capita will put them to sleep. But I go to what’s been my default since arriving here. “It’s…umm…well, it’s about halfway between Boston and New York.”
“That doesn’t sound particularly interesting Daniel.”
“I suppose it doesn’t.”
I field questions back and forth for quite a while, slowly learning the names of the students and picking up on which ones will likely lead class discussions. They, in turn, learn some less interesting factoids about myself and life back home.
Samuel raises his hand again. “Yes Samuel?”
“So, you’re, erm, properly old.”
“Ten points off your first assignment. Go on.”
Samuel laughs. “No, not old, old. Do you have a wife…girlfriend…boyfriend?”
Lily rolls her eyes. “You forgot the potential of a husband.”
And, for some reason, I find myself recounting the story of Alex and my meltdown in Casadoro. The students eat it up, gasping at the right moments and laughing at the others. By the time I’m done telling the story, and assuring them I’ve arrived in Dublin very single, there is only about five minutes left in class.
“Before you all go, let me pass these out.” I hand a stack of syllabi to Lily. “Yes, I know it’s veryoldof me to do paper printouts, but I love a good list. If you reviewed the email I sent you all, this is the same list of books we’ll be covering over the next few months. And, before you all start complaining, these are young adult reads. They read quick, they are interesting unlike many of your other lit course materials, and most of your grade is based on class discussion. Make sure to do the reading ahead of class, contribute, and you will do just fine.”
The last student, Noah, gets the final copy. “We are starting with the Jennifer Niven block. Please read the first 100 pages, or wherever the closest natural chapter break happens, ofAll the Bright Placesfor next class. Come prepared with discussion points on character development, how the setting is depicted, and what you like and don’t like so far. Class dismissed.”
Literature for Young Adults - Michaelmas Term Session
Lecturer - Daniel Pierce
T TH 3:30-4:45
Syllabus
Block One - Jennifer Niven
