Joline Scott-Roller was a junior taking Literature and Film with Gary Levine at Ashland University. 

It was a Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoon course in 2005, shortly after the film “Passion of the Christ” was released. Levine was interested in having a class discussion about the film, while relating it to the Bible, and the complicated issues that tied into his course.

At the time, there wasn’t a specific course titled Bible as Literature. 

“I think that was the first time he tried to [teach the Bible as literature],” said Scott-Roller. “A lot of the other students talked about how they didn’t like how he was treating the Bible.” 

While discussing the film and the Bible, the two had different opinions. 

Levine argued that the “Passion of the Christ” by Mel Gibson was anti-Semitic. Scott-Roller disagreed.

They also argued about the ethics of teaching the Bible, especially at a Christian school, as literature.

Scott-Roller wasn’t afraid to speak up; therefore, she and Levine got in a heated debate, and she walked out of class.

She didn’t return to class until two weeks later after the class had moved on to another novel.

Scott-Roller still passed the class with an A. 

The following semester, Scott-Roller was interested in taking another course with Levine. Because the class was full, she had to submit a form, signed by Levine, to allow her in the class. 

Scott-Roller made a visit to Levine’s office to get his signature.

“You want to take another class with me?” said Levine, with a look of shock.

“Yes,” said Scott-Roller.

“I thought you hated me,” said Levine.

“No, I didn’t hate you,” responded Scott-Roller. “You’re a good professor, I just didn’t agree with you.”

“Oh… okay.”

That was only the beginning of their relationship.

“I walked away with the idea that I had a voice,” said Scott-Roller. “I could say what I wanted to say and it was okay, I should. Saying something that was controversial, or that didn’t meet what the authoritative people said, is okay.”

Levine passed away on November 1, 2015, in hospice care in Medina. He was 49.

***

Royalty. 

The ‘King of Composition’ and the ‘Queen of the Writing Studio.’

Sidekicks of collaboration for 15 years.

It all began when Sue Guiher interviewed Levine for a position in the English department.

“I still vividly remember his presentation and how impressive it was,” said Guiher.

Levine was packed with a variety of knowledge and could talk for hours about books he read or topics that intrigued him. 

“I don’t think he forgot anything he read or learned,” said Guiher.

“He was so talkative,” she said. “At one point I asked him, ‘where is your off button?’”

It wasn’t long before Guiher became the ‘Proxy Mother’ to Levine.

“I always referred to him as my third son,” said Guiher. “Gary was only two years older than my oldest son. Because his real mother was on the west coast, I became the filler.”

Levine never left Bixler without stopping by Guiher’s office to chat before returning home to Medina.

Soon enough, Guiher took on the role of ‘Rental Grandma,’ when Levine’s children Sunny and Carlos came along.

“He would bring Sunny to my office while he would teach,” said Guiher. “I had games and a magnetic dartboard for Carlos and Sunny to play. Oftentimes Sunny would draw pictures or the two of them would play on the computers in the writing studio.”

While Guiher enjoyed many moments and shared many memories with Levine, one moment defined their relationship the most.

He introduced her to a campus visitor as his “closest friend at work.”

***

The English Composition program is Levine’s greatest legacy.

As the director of the composition program, Levine spent extensive energy and countless hours building the program from the ground up.

It wasn’t something that just happened overnight. 

From assessment structures to the development of the master syllabi to providing research from the field that supported the program and could be applied to the concepts taught in English Composition, Levine took pride in the English program.

“He is deeply responsible for it,” said Hilary Donatini, chair of the English department.

He believed it to be a part of the academic quality that students received at AU. Through the program, Levine strived to have a continuous improvement in the learning experience for students. 

Levine’s goal was to have students come out of the program as better writers.

“He was a champion of academic quality,” said Donatini. “He always wanted to be assured that students were receiving the highest quality academic experience. He didn’t want students to have a watered-down experience in the classroom.” 

The English department assesses the composition program every year using the process that Levine created. The department is in a constant state of reflection of what the composition program achieves, what is expected to be achieved and how it can be done.

All credited to Levine.

In addition to serving as the director of English composition, Levine had a history of engaging in university service. Over the past 15 years, he served on the Faculty Senate Curriculum Committee, the Faculty Senate Executive Committee, the Core Assessment Task Force, the Honors Steering Committee, and the Retention Committee. He also served as Editor of the North Central Association Self-Study.

“He had a real intellectual range,” said Donatini. “He had a range of interests and areas of expertise.”

*** 

Selfless, intelligent, witty. 

Passionate, analytical, quirky.

Outspoken.

***

Levine was born to be a professor. It was what he was best at, besides being a father.

“He has always known that this institution is based on the interaction between professor and student and that cultivates our ability to nurture and challenge the student,” said Donatini. “That was always at the core of his mission as a professor that he wanted to challenge his students. 

“He always wanted to make sure that the education students receive here was ‘top-notch,’ she continued. “That [students] weren’t embarrassed to go here [to AU] that it was a place you knew you were getting something out of the coursework.”

Students that had Levine as a professor were not always comfortable with his practices. They found him to be hard to work with and challenging in the classroom. 

Junior Allie Newhouse had Levine for English Grammar in the fall 2014 semester.

With a class primarily filled with upperclassman education majors who were getting ready to student teach the following spring, students were often stressed and frustrated when grammatical concepts weren’t being understood quickly. 

“When I first started taking his class, I thought he was difficult to work with,” said Newhouse.

“I found myself blatantly telling him that he wasn’t staying on topic and therefore confusing the class on the difficult subject matter and calling individual meetings with him to discuss ways in which he could do better as a professor.”

Newhouse had made a list of things to discuss with him, for her own reference to make sure she covered all the bases that she felt the class was struggling with.

Levine asked to see the list and proceeded to correct the grammatical errors that lied within. 

It wasn’t the kind of meeting that Newhouse was expecting.

In the end, Levine cared about his students and treated them as individuals.

“I remember one day Dr. Levine [randomly] came in with a ridiculous hat on,” said Newhouse. “It was a giant Jamaican costume-looking hat with fat, fake dread locks flowing down from the back.  Everyone was laughing, and the stress anyone had brought into the classroom that day disappeared.  He loved to make us laugh and feel comfortable at all times.”

***

Living only five minutes down the road from each other, Pravin Rodrigues, associate professor of Communication Studies, carpooled with Levine to-and-from AU. 

When Rodrigues would tell people about carpooling with Levine, many often replied, “That must be one interesting carpool,” referring to how much talking occurred within the 45-minute trip.

Rodrigues talked almost as much as Levine. Sometimes they would even talk at the same time, one talking over the other, or vice versa. 

Levine would pick up Rodrigues between 8 a.m. and 9 a.m. every day in his silver, two-door, stick-shift Honda Civic.

On their ride, Levine would never exceed the speed limit.

 “If you have this car, why don’t you go anything over the speed limit?” Rodrigues asked.

With a grin on his face and a twinkle reflecting out of the corner of his eye, Levine replied, “With great power comes great responsibility.” 

Rodrigues chuckled.

But then the Honda would pick up speed, and then start to slow down, and then proceed to pick up speed again.

Rodrigues learned that his speed correlated with the conversations they were having.

When talking about matters related to AU, the Honda would pick up speed. When Rodrigues brought up Levine’s children, Sunny and Carlos, it was like smooth sailing down the highway.

***

The final moments of life are hard to handle.

Hard to talk about.

Hard to watch.

Levine’s final moments in Hospice weren’t ones that people want to remember. But oftentimes they are defining moments that remind you who he was as a person.

Rodrigues walked into Levine’s room one day; seeing Levine lie in the bed, struggling to talk or even lift a finger. 

Levine asked about AU, seeking an update, while prepared to express his rage.

“Hey, Pravin, want some pain meds?”

Rodrigues chuckled, while holding back his tears.

Levine slowly lifted his hand, shaped in a fist.

“Fight the power, man.”