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Testimonies
Françoise's testimony on 7/6/12, 1:34 PM
Gallivanting : an outing with Jim
Jim and I set off from the campus in the morning, feeling like naughty schoolchildren playing truant. Jim was proudly showing off in his sleek new black Clio, which was just as dapper as its owner. It was a Vivaldi kind of day : blue skies and billowing clouds. And as if on cue, Jim produced a Vivaldi CD and soon we were bouncing along on a very brisk rendition of the Four Seasons by Il Giardino Harmonico. Perfect for mischievous middle-aged truants !
But don’t be mistaken, we were setting off for Somewhere : this was serious, not aimless gallivanting. And there was a Cultural Dimension to our outing. Our destination was Le Cateau-Cambrésis, Matisse’s birthplace. Matisse’s parents were marchands de couleurs there. “Colour merchants”, an apt occupation for the genitors of such a wonderful colourist.
Le Cateau-Cambrésis, a rather nondescript and lacklustre little town half-way between Saint Quentin and Valenciennes , would have remained obscure had it not been Matisse’s birthplace. Matisse inaugurated the museum in 1952. It has since been transferred to an XVIIIth century palace built by the Cambrai archbishops, surrounded by a beautiful park bordered by three-century-old lime trees. Le Cateau has become a favourite destination for Matisse fans like Jim and I.
On the day we visited the museum, it was hosting .. a Chagall exhibition, Chagall and the Bible, with many colourful illustrations of the Old Testament. Matisse was nowhere to be seen, Chagall was ubiquitous. Och well …. We were hungry, so did not linger : we headed for an old-fashioned brasserie. We had already decided that since we were being naughty, we might as well extend our naughtiness to the contents of our plates : so we ignored the healthy salads on the menu, and ordered two hearty flammekuechen, washed down by ale and followed by gigantic ice-creams. This was our day out, and we might as well make the most of it ! Gallivanting with Jim was fun. I miss him.
A Scottish joke (to tell the joke, use a strong Glaswegian accent for the lady, a posh English accent for the man)
(Somewhere in Glasgow )
Man : Excuse me Madam, could you tell me how I can get to the Burrell Collection (*) please?
Woman : Burrel collection ? I danae know no burrel collection. I don’t even know what a burrel is !
(*) The Burrell collection is a famous private museum set in Polok Country Park in a suburb of Glasgow . It is named after its donor, Sir William Burrell, a shipping magnate.
A saying
Under the stiff British upper lip, there is a wobbly chin.
Francoise BROWN, professeur d'anglais à la faculté de langues et cultures étrangères, UPJV
Annik's testimony on 7/6/12, 3:42 PM
Christiane, je l'ai connue à l'Ecole Normale. Nous avions 16 ans. Elle était de la promotion d'avant, car, excellente élève, elle était en avance d'une année. Studieuse, douée, elle voulait réussir.
Puis, par hasard, nous nous sommes retrouvées collègues d'anglais au collège de Rivery. Je ne l'ai pas vue tout de suite, car elle attendait Elise. Elle n'est revenue qu'à la rentrée 1978. Nous avons alors sympathisé, Jim, Christiane, Jean-Pierre - mon mari - et moi, et avons partagé beaucoup de moments conviviaux.
Puis, nous avons fait, Christiane et moi, un long moment de route ensemble ; des échanges de deux semaines avec les élèves de 4ème ; quinze jours de bonheur et de responsabilités partagées. Toujours logées dans les mêmes familles, certaines folkloriques ! Christiane, toujours au régime, devait ingurgiter plusieurs plats de féculents à chaque repas ! Crise obligeait déjà. Mais il fallait absolument regarder le sport à la télé, passionnée de tennis, de rugby et de foot... S'il n'y avait que ça ! Le bridge aussi la passionnait. Elle sillonnait la campagne picarde pour s'y adonner. Avide aussi, de musées, de culture en général, tout ce qui pouvait enrichir notre quotidien.
Et puis, il y a eu cette saleté de maladie ; des larmes versées - ce n'était pas son genre - dans la salle des profs quand elle a eu connaissance du diagnostic ; un véritable couperet, elle, qui ne ratait jamais un rendez-vous médical ! Et alors, je l'ai suivie tout au long de sa maladie ; elle faisait face, semblant d'y croire mais le coeur n'y était pas !
Elle nous a reçus, tous les amis, avec son turban de remplacement, et son sourire inégalable ; et elle est partie en Angleterre avec Jim pour une journée, elle en fut épuisée mais heureuse ! Jim n'a pas lâché sa main tout au long du voyage.
Après deux années de souffrance, le voyage s'est terminé le 17 février 1999. Elle n'avait que 57 ans !
J'en garde un souvenir tenace, ineffaçable... et dire que Jim a suivi, lui aussi. Aucun n'aura goûté aux joies de la retraite et Dieu sait qu'ils avaient des projets ambitieux ! Ils laisseront tous deux l'image d'êtres comme nous tous, certes, mais quelque part, hors du commun. Je les associe dans ma mémoire et dans ma grande peine de les avoir perdus. Mes pensées s'envolent maintenant vers Elise, Vincent et Tom, qui ont beaucoup souffert.
Annik Bonnaud, professeur d'anglais au collège de Rivery
Elena's testimony on 7/7/12, 8:34 PM
"Ce n'est pas parce qu'il y a de la neige sur le toit, qu'il n'y a plus de feu dans la cheminée !"
C'est ainsi que mon professeur cheveux poivre & sel s'est présenté lors du premier cours de thème en LEA 1987... Cette jolie phrase était accompagnée du sourire malicieux que nous connaissons tous.
Il nous faisait travailler dur, mais toujours dans la bonne humeur. Je lui dois beaucoup, y compris la fierté et le bonheur d'avoir obtenu un 18 en thème en 2e année, surtout qu'il a précisé que c'était la première fois qu'il donnait cette note ! J'avais gardé un souvenir indélébile de mon professeur de français, grâce à laquelle j'ai appris cette langue et Jim l'a rejointe sur la brève liste de personnes qui ont marqué ma vie.
L'idée de ce site est géniale. Puissent toutes ces pensées lui parvenir!...
Elena
Nathalie's testimony on 11/27/12, 2:11 PM
J'ai de Jim Mc Crate le souvenir d'un professeur très inspirant, immensément cultivé, très intentionné - parfois trop, toujours inquiet de l'impact qu'il avait sur nous, il s'excusait souvent - très attentif à nos moindres réactions, les analysant dans le but d'améliorer le contact. Je le trouvais timide mais il m'impressionnait.
Un moment dont je me souviens comme si c'était hier: un jour qu'il avait dû amener sa fille Elise à l'université : l'immense fierté dans son regard comme si ce petit bout de femme était le plus beau cadeau que la vie lui ait jamais fait. C'était probablement ce qu'il devait ressentir...
Nathalie Bourlet, ancienne etudiante de l'UPJV et aujourd'hui professeur d'anglais au collège Stanislas, Outremont, Quebec, Canada
Caroline's testimony on 3/18/13, 7:45 PM
Remember … Prof. Jim McCrate …
I remember Prof. McCrate with a picture of his small office at the Faculty, strewn with papers, manuscripts, and bookshelves filled to overflowing.
I wish one had a tenth of his energy when he spoke about P.D. James. Come rain or sunshine, every day, he wore a nice jacket, a bow-tie and coordinated garments, on top of which his famous blue duffle coat; and he carried his umbrella under the cold rain and the whipping wind of Picardy! Of course, he drove to the university, and certainly as a true Glaswegian, he was used to this kind of weather.
I have been fortunate to take three undergraduate courses with Prof. McCrate. I could have listened to him talk for hours about paintings by Gainsborough or Italian painters. We could nearly weep while he was reading excerpts from Jane Austen or laugh out loud when he read Spike Milligan ... I sat through Monday morning translation classes and I loved every minute. It was learning for learning’s sake, infinitely more valuable to me than other courses in British Literature.
Every student should have had a Professor like Jim McCrate, and while I was happy he retired on his own terms, I felt sad for future students who would not experience his classroom.
I will never master the withering look as he peered over the top of his reading glasses at the beginning of class and asked: "Can anybody tell me where we are in the translation?" and instantly make us all understand that we had again put our translation pretensions – ahead of clarity and/or focus, and over the next two hours he was going to explain word-by-word exactly how we had failed.–
There are moments when I teach in my kindergarten class, or in the upper primary level, when I can sense I move beyond the mechanical teaching of English into the passionate, and in those magic, but fleeting moments, my pupils are maybe for the first time learning to think and speak in English.
I remember how in his end-of semester comments, he said we needed to be more confident and concerned about the quality of the writing and that our translations were the feelings of the writer.
I am not sure any of my pupils over the years have felt I am not so confident, but I have tried to make all understand that my allegiance is to the quality of their enjoying the language. And if the chance presents itself, I will tell them about the teacher who taught me that. – Professor Jim McCrate –.
I have now come to understand that learning does not always end when the class or course does. Some insights and understandings are iterative and cumulative. Pupils or students arrive at them after repeated exposure, as the evidence mounts and their skills and experiences deepen. Other intellectual development happens when they are finally ready to learn.
Some students can be very hard to read. It is not always easy to determine what effect the course is having, or will have on them or on us. Sometimes we do see the evidence; pupils excel and we share their success. But many times there is no evidence. He or she passes through the course without appearing to have been touched.
I was touched and I had a solid grasp of what I hoped I would take from Prof. McCrate’s course.
It is not Prof. McCrate’s academic area which I remember best, but that his knowledge was expansive. One student once had asked how he became interested in Arts as well as Literature. "Oh, I’ve traveled and read a lot, that’s how it started".
Now, you know, I had always intended to thank him, to tell him how his introduction to Literature has resulted in a lifetime of pleasure. But I arrived there too late. I can only say my thanks with these lines.
Caroline Boinet,
University of Picardy Jules Verne,
Faculty of Modern Languages and Foreign Cultures,
From 1992 to 1995.