A Eulogy

Today I walked the streets of Russia looking as sad and somber as any native, but it’s not because I’ve become acclimated.  Yesterday the world lost a very promising figure in the sphere of Russian studies, and I personally lost a great friend.  Jennifer Day, who passed away yesterday at a tragically young age, was my first and best teacher of Russian language and literature.  On our first day in class, she read us Pushkin’s “Ya Vas Liubil” (“I Loved You”) and enchanted us with the melodic power of the poem.  By the end of that semester, she had us all, amazingly, able to recite the same poem.  Jennifer made the language come alive, and I use her teaching techniques every single day in the classroom.

In many ways, Jennifer, or Zhenya, is my hero.  She proved, despite what Nabokov said, that an American can master the unwieldy Russian tongue.  As a young woman of a decidedly non-Russian background, she had an incredible career in Russian studies, writing on everything from St. Petersburg architecture to literary meta-texts.  In my experience, most professors have either a deep knowledge of the subject or a love of teaching.  Jennifer had both.  Though not yet a tenured professor, she was the absolute heart of our Russian department.  During the semesters when she was on sabbatical and maternity leave, the department became staid and its events perfunctory.  But Jennifer always brought such great enthusiasm and creativity to her work, her joy was positively contagious.

Our teacher-student relationship quickly expanded beyond the classroom.  Over the course of our three years’ acquaintance, I became Jen’s dog-walker and baby-sitter, and she became my project advisor.  For some students, weekly senior project meetings were dreadful affairs.  But I looked forward to my meetings with Jen, because I knew I would come out of them re-energized and inspired.  In fact, our discussions came to resemble therapy sessions.  I’d arrive with a problem, we’d talk it out, and she would wisely guide and enable me to find my own solutions.  She was always modest when I expressed my gratitude, but I know in my heart that my success was due as much to her efforts as to my own.

I can say with no hesitation that Jennifer Day is the singular reason I am in Russia today, and not only because she wrote me a recommendation for the Fulbright application.  Jen shared with me an illogical, impractical passion for Russian studies, and taught me that this feeling could be the foundation of a career.  She encouraged and inspired me, both as my teacher and my friend.

My heart goes out to Jennifer’s family, friends and students.  Though, or perhaps especially because, I am in Russia, I am with you in your grief.