Lynn. How are you, Prof. Eschenbach? I have not seen you here for some time.

Prof. Eschenbach: Hi, Lynn. It’s always a busy time at the end of the term. I scarcely have time to think.

Lynn. That’s funny, coming from you.

Prof. Eschenbach: What do you mean?

Lynn. Weren’t you telling me last month that you were teaching two days a week? And didn’t you just return from a research trip in Peru?

Prof. Eschenbach. Columbia, actually. But there’s always so much to do. And my students! Every year it gets harder and harder.

Lynn. Why is that?

Prof. Eschenbach. They know nothing! When I teach them about history, I’m always starting at square one. They don’t follow current events. They don’t know how to read and write.

Lynn. That’s a shame.

Prof. Eschenbach. It certainly is. They remain fixed to their phones, texting and watching videos.

Lynn. I see. I meant it was a shame in another sense.

Prof. Eschenbach. What other sense do you mean?

Lynn. Look, you are a good customer, and I want you to hear what I’m saying in the right way. I’m not as good with words as you. And sometimes I think I speak too directly.

Prof. Eschenbach. Go on.

Lynn. Well, the point is that you seem rushed and unsettled, even though I would think you have a lot of free time.

Prof. Eschenbach. I’m not unsettled. But I hardly think I have free time! I’m frustrated by many things: the vast ignorance of my students, the duplicitous self-righteousness of my colleagues, the waste and mendacity of administrators.

Lynn. What do you teach? Isn’t it something about South America?

Prof. Eschenbach. Yes, Columbian history and social classes.

Lynn. It sounds very specialized.

Prof. Eschenbach. You have no idea how much work it involves. It is all-consuming.

Lynn. I think I understand. I have a new puppy, and she is very demanding, always wanting more attention.

Prof. Eschenbach. You’re kidding me again. But seriously. There is always more research, new grants to apply for, new speaking engagements.

Lynn. And yet you don’t have time to think?

Prof. Eschenbach. Yes, that’s right.

Lynn. Don’t you think that’s funny?

Prof. Eschenbach. Why would I?

Lynn. I mean, you spend so much time writing, reading, and speaking, yet you have little time to think. It’s as if you want to plant flowers without minding the roots. Here I have to watch not only over sales, but also over inventory. I have to think about more than just where I am. I have think about where I’ve been in order to help me know where I’m going.

Prof. Eschenbach. But you run a business. You have no sense of what my life as a professor is like.

Lynn. But you’re telling me about it. Are you frustrated by your students?

Prof. Eschenbach. Yes.

Lynn. Because they know so little?

Prof. Eschenbach. Almost nothing!

Lynn. And can’t read and write?

Prof. Eschenbach. Yes, yes, yes. I’ve said all that.

Lynn. Then what are you teaching them?

Prof. Eschenbach. What do you mean?

Lynn. I mean, are you teaching them about your life or about your work?

Prof. Eschenbach. I’m not understanding you now. Of course I’m teaching them about history! I have so much to offer them!

Lynn. But if they don’t understand what you are teaching, how will you reach them? Won’t you be teaching them more about your frustrations then about anything else?

Prof. Eschenbach. Wait a minute! People need to understand that not just history, but the whole of the humanities is under siege! They should know about the falling numbers of professors, as those who retire are not replaced. They need to be advocates for the humanities and not simply mesmerized by STEM!

Lynn. Are you teaching them why the humanities matter?

Prof. Eschenbach. Of course! Only it’s hard to get through to them, with all this talk of technology.

Lynn. Look, I’m no expert here. I’m just listening to what you are saying. You say that you don’t have time to think, and that your students don’t listen. Could there be a connection?

Prof. Eschenbach. Go on.

Lynn. How can they know what they’re advocating, if they don’t see its importance? How can they see its importance, if you don’t show them in a way that speaks to them, that connects to their lives? Do you want them to be as frustrated as you? Your research wants you to become more specialized – maybe you need to become more basic.

Prof. Eschenbach. Basic? What do you mean? This isn’t elementary school!

Lynn. It is hard to be basic.

Prof. Eschenbach. That makes no sense. What is difficult is complex, and people should value complexity.

Lynn. Not always, I think. You are sounding like those who promote technology, like the sales reps who want me to buy the latest, most sophisticated software for my business. And then of course also the training seminars to be able to use it. Maybe you should think, with whatever time you can find, about the essential meaning of what you do.

Prof. Eschenbach. I do that already!

Lynn. Well, instead of advocating something your students do not understand, maybe you can find ways to spark their interests. You could lead them to see how all our lives have a history, and that we are always moving forward with one foot in the past. Put out a sign: History Ship. More people might come aboard.

Prof. Eschenbach. I’ll leave the marketing to you. Next week my family leaves for Bogota for the summer. I can’t wait to leave this place!