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I was saddened to learn of the recent passing of Richard Twomey, a History professor at Saint Marys University in Halifax. He taught my American History class when I was a “student” there in the early 90′s. I say “student” because at the time I was just bouncing around from class to class with no real plan or purpose. I was no more a student than a rocket scientist.

To be honest, I did not enjoy his class, but that was more a reflection of my attitude than his. I was simply too young, too immature, and too stupid to take my studies seriously. To this day I can barely remember the names of the various professors and instructors I had during those few years of  university learning, but I’ve always remembered him. There is an honest reason for that, which I’ll get to in a minute. But there is also the “incident”…

In Professor Twomey’s class I would usually sit in the back and daydream, read books, or snicker with a friend who was also killing time and wasting money. I do recall that Professor Twomey was passionate about his subject, and he often lectured with a beaming smile, enjoying the times he was able to engage students in discussion. On this particular day I was sitting there reading the university paper, The Journal, and there was a cartoon on one of the pages. It was Spider-man’s head, surrounded by squiggly lines, with a caption that read: “Mary Jane must be near—my Spidey nuts are tingling.”

This struck me as being hilarious, and it kicked off a fit of giggles. I attempted to stifle them but in the effort I let out a snort that instantly turned heads in my direction and stopped Twomey in mid-sentence. There was silence for an eternal moment and then he resumed. But I could just not shake the hilarity of Spidey’s tingling testicles and though I was quiet, a huge shit-eating grin remained on my face. After a few moments, Twomey had had enough.

“I’m sorry,” he said, visibly irritated. “I can’t help but notice you are really enjoying yourself back there. Are we amusing you?” He said some other things, too, that time has made vague, but to my perception were slightly condescending and designed to humiliate me in front of everyone else.

Now you have to understand that by nature I am a very quiet and private person. I do not enjoy being the focus of attention, and feeling the stares of 30 plus students caused my face to redden and burn and a sweat to break out. I’m not a confrontational person, but for some reason, on this day, at this particular time, I drew my line in the sand.

“Would you rather I sit back here and grimace?” I asked, using my best smartass inflection.

I don’t recall what was said next. But I do remember being asked to leave, which I did. In my mind I was completely innocent. After all, it was my time and my money and aside from a brief snort (hey, maybe I needed to clear my sinuses), I was sitting there quietly. So what if I was smiling? Afterwards, I went to his office to complain about being called out and humiliated in front of the class. If there was a problem, I said, I would rather you deal with it one-to-one rather than embarass me. It was actually a cordial visit and a civil discussion. I saw his point of view, he saw mine. There was no further unpleasantness in his class.

But what I mostly remember Professor Twomey for, and for which I am most grateful, is introducing me to Thomas Paine. At the time I barely paid attention to the lectures on Paine’s intellectual activism, but some of it sank in. And years later, when my own curiosities were awakening and the seeds of humanism and atheism were taking root, I recalled some of his lectures on Paine and dug out some of the old books and reading material. I knew he had been very keen on Paine, but now I was finally allowing myself to learn why.

I can’t say that Professor Twomey changed my life or dispensed the nugget of wisdom that forever altered my perception of the world. But in addition to giving me one of the most prominent memories of my brief time at SMU, he also managed to squeeze something through the cracks despite my academic apathy. Though I wasn’t prepared to look upon it when he gave it to me, it sat there in the back of my mind and waited. What’s the old saying, “When the student is ready the teacher appears”? Well, sometimes the teacher appears before the student is ready.

Thank you Professor Twomey. Sorry that it took so long for me to finally try and be a worthy student. Rest in peace and my condolences to your friends and family.

“When men yield up the privilege of thinking, the last shadow of liberty quits the horizon.” – Thomas Paine