 |
| The author of two novels, three
short story collections and two edited volumes, Reginald
McKnight—who spoke at Graduate Commencement in fall
2002—came to UGA from the University of Michigan.
(Photo by Peter Frey) |
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| English professor helps students traverse
the ‘road to discovery’ |
By Alex Crevar and Phil Williams
acrevar@uga.edu,
phil@franklin.uga.edu |
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| FACTS |
| REGINALD MCKNIGHT |
| Hamilton Holmes Professor |
Pikes Peak Community College, Associate
of Arts, 1978
Colorado College, Bachelor of Arts, 1981
University of Denver, master’s degree with emphasis
in creative writing, 1987 |
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Reginald McKnight is not the English instructor who forced you
to diagram sentences. He is UGA’s first Hamilton Holmes
Professor, a new chair that honors the legacy of one of the
first two African Americans to integrate UGA in 1961. When McKnight,
an acclaimed author and winner of the Pushcart Prize, jokes
with his class, which is often, his eyes squint with glee, and
he is genuinely in on the joke. His presence is relaxed, avuncular.
”It’s easy to teach writers to write, but nearly
impossible to teach those who can’t,” says McKnight,
who also teaches African literature. Among his favorite classes
are “White Writers, Black Characters” and “Cross-Racial
Literature,” because they force students to step outside
their comfort zones.
“As the teacher, you’re always tempted to just write
the story for the student, but you can’t—because
every story is a road of discovery,” he says. “There’s
a kind of spiritual element to all mediums of art. Besides,
this is not a trade school and we’re not here to put out
craftspeople. We’re in the business of creating better
readers—whether they be of literary stories, news broadcasts,
or political debates.”
When these modern students, whose minds are often trapped in
a labyrinth of GREs, LSATs, MCATs and future dollar signs, shed
their grade-point pressures in pursuit of humanistic and artistic
deliberation, it is a tribute to McKnight. It is also precisely
why UGA lured the author of two novels, three short story collections
and two edited volumes from the University of Michigan to fill
an academic chair that represents the university’s dedication
to diversity and openness.
“He allows us to think for ourselves,” says Melissa
Golden, a sophomore international affairs major from Atlanta.
“And because of that, you don’t kill yourself to
meet the highest expectations. He just makes you want to get
there for yourself.”
After Hamilton Holmes integrated UGA, earning both a Phi Beta
Kappa key and a bachelor of science degree cum laude, he went
on to integrate Emory’s medical school and later served
as its associate dean. For the entirety of his life, until his
death in 1995, Holmes placed a high priority on scholarship.
For McKnight, the Holmes appointment is significant for both
historical and personal reasons.
“As a kid, I marveled at the courage of pioneers like
Holmes and [Charlayne] Hunter-Gault,” he says. “Holding
this chair is like rubbing elbows with the greats.”
By the time he was 16, McKnight had attended 15 schools, mostly
in the western United States, around the Air Force bases where
his father was stationed. But he was also schooled in the deep
South, where he attended one segregated school and others that
he and his three siblings integrated.
“America has made blacks the spokespeople for race—but
that’s not my role,” he says. “When I write,
I am typically writing to one person, be it my mother or someone
else. I use a bow and arrow rather than a shotgun approach when
identifying my audience. I’ve lived a very peripatetic
life. I have gained a lot of friends and lost quite a few, and
sometimes it feels like my writing is simply a message in a
bottle and the hope that those friends get it.”
Asked about his next book, McKnight will only say (for fear
of losing steam with too much talk) that it will be set in the
1940s, different from his past work.
On the subject of where he thinks he is as a writer, he replies,
“I get better book after book. I still haven’t reached
my potential—but I think talent is finite. I think I have
about five books left in me. After that I’m going to do
like Artie Shaw and turn my clarinet into a lamp.”
(Note: This profile was adapted
from a story published earlier in Georgia magazine.) |
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