from Neva Goodwin

When I was an undergraduate at Harvard, in the 1960s, Alan Lebowitz was teaching Creative Writing. I took at least 2 classes from him -- I think 3. He was a terrific teacher -- interested, creative, caring, and superb at noticing what was really going on in a piece of writing -- and perhaps in the head of the person behind the writing. Students in such classes are taking a risk; they're exposing a lot about themselves. I was very shy and generally found my classmates terrifying. Alan created an atmosphere where everyone felt supported and respected; my memories of those classes are all memories of interesting, intelligent exchange -- fun and exciting, with ego trips somehow gently shunted aside. At the time I just knew that I liked those classes, and gained much from them; in retrospect I am even more impressed at what Alan was able to achieve.