Life-changing teacher #1: Emily Brady

In my previous post, I said that I would write about six teachers who had changed my life. I’m going to do this in chronological  order, and this is the first one (the only one still living):

I was barely 18 years old when I entered Boston University as a liberal arts major. At that time I rather pretentiously thought of myself as smarter than most people, and quite the little intellectual. I had read widely, and English was my favorite subject.

Imagine my chagrin when I arrived in Boston (from Connecticut, where I grew up) to discover that I had been placed in the “dummy” English class! I was furious, so with more feistiness than trepidation, I stomped over to the office of the head of the English Department, Professor Link, and stated my case. I told him I wouldn’t, couldn’t stay in that class! He looked slightly amused, checked my records, and said, “But you did poorly on your entrance exams.” I’ve never been particularly good under pressure, so I told him, “Yes, but did anyone even bother to look at my straight A record in English in high school?” Professor Link could see that I wasn’t going to back down easily, so he said, “All right, I’ll have you switched to Emily Brady’s advanced English class.”

I left his office with a feeling of triumph and exhilaration. I couldn’t wait to start Mrs. Brady’s class.

Nothing, however, had prepared me for the tall, willowy goddess who swept into the classroom sporting a long black cape and dark brown eyes as big as saucers. She was gorgeous—black hair in a bob with bangs, and a smile that lit up the room to the last student in the back row. All the boys developed instant crushes on her, and I guess I did, too. She was quite the dramatic figure, and I loved that she drove around in a dumpy woodie station wagon.

Emily immediately put us to work reading important novels by authors I had never heard of, and having us write essays about them. This was right up my alley. I became and avid student, and did everything I could to please Emily and make her see how smart I was. She noticed, and gave me the attention I had longed for during high school, but never got. She encouraged me, said I had talent as a writer, and even urged me to send some of my pieces to a few literary journals. I did, and was thrilled when I finally got a personal, rather than an automatic rejection letter that was kind and encouraging.

Never particularly self-confident (although I did a pretty good job at faking it), with Emily’s care, attention, friendship, and engaging sense of humor, I could feel a true sense of worth growing in me. I truly came to feel that I was a writer because of her. I only studied with her for that one year, but we ended up becoming friends. I’m a jazz pianist, and she used to come to my gigs. Even after I got married and had my first child, our friendship continued. I have never forgotten her, and a few years ago was able to find her online. She was (and is) still teaching at B.U. I wasn’t sure if she’d remember me, but she did, and was surprised and pleased that I had contacted her. During the time I knew her she had remarried, had a child, and then her husband suddenly died of a heart attack. After that we lost touch, and at some point she married again and became Emily Dalgarno, the name she still uses today. When I contacted her, she told me she was now single again and had never been happier.

About Emily:

Emily Izsak Dalgarno (formerly Brady) graduated Phi Beta Kappa, summa cum laude in English, and has an international reputation as a teacher and scholar. After graduating from William Smith she attended Brown University, and in 1962 completed her Ph.D. in English literature. 

Since 1959 she has taught thousands of students in a variety of courses in literature at Boston University and has published in numerous literary magazines. She has written two books on Virginia Woolf: Virginia Woolf and the Visible World and Virginia Woolf and the Migrations of Language.

Next: Sam Rivers