My Very Own Symonds Ryder Moment
The letter invited me to join the only university led by living prophets and to teach early American literature there, but there was one problem: my (now former) address was horribly misspelled. Actually, it's a small miracle that the letter even reached me. I asked myself--how could divinely inspired leaders get my information so wrong? Shouldn't they KNOW? And then I remembered Symonds Ryder (also, infamously, Simonds Rider), who was once placed in something of a similar situation. I quickly decided that maybe spelling wasn't the most important thing, even for an English professor, and suffice to say that I'm now happily on my way to BYU.
Wahoo!
Give me your tired, your poor,
Your starving students yearning for knowledge . . .
Send these, the young, the media-addled to me,
I lift my books beneath the Y!
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:)