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casual observer of things not likely to be vitally important.
- These are plus-threes. They used to be plus-fours, but they shrank!
See me morph into Josh Hartnett |
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I know - it's very silly. But it was either him, Sally Field -- or George Clooney! I must have some really good genes...
Now, things may still be like this elsewhere, but to us, this was 19th century teaching. And no other teachers did anything like this. We didn't know they had surnames...
In our second year with him, Mr. A was growing on us. He did give us a lot of homework. He could be very harsh, if you didn't pay attention or was able to answer a - to him - very simple question. But he was always fair. And he knew everything. And was completely enthusiastic about teaching!
He tricked us into understanding how you can't actually trust everything you read. He lured us into liking poetry (well, some of us already did..). He showed us history wasn't at all dull. And his compassion for what was fair and just seemed to rub off on us. I'm not saying he turned us all into heros or anything, but he did make us all do the most of what we had.
Our third year with him we mostly spent wondering what we'd do without him next year... A handful from my class spent a 10th year at school (a non-compulsory half-working half-studying year) mostly because he was teaching it.
When I was a student, possible while I was doing ancient Greek, I stopped just thinking I ought to have written him a thank you letter, and actually did. On my visits back home after I moved away, I always stopped by the school to say hello to him. First time I brought hubby - then boyfriend - I stopped by to show him off. When Jakob was born and we went up north, we stopped by school as well. Mr. A beamed with satisfaction and said: "And now, Lord, You are releasing Your servant to depart in peace, according to Your word. For with my own eyes I have seen Your Salvation". Then laughed a little, partly because he wasn't really that religious, partly because he didn't actually believe Jakob to be the second coming, and partly because my dad's a minister and he didn't want to put his foot in it... But he did appreciate us coming to see him. When we introduced him to the quads later he was ever so pleased...
We had a 20 year reunion two years ago (yes, I'm an old woman), and Mr. A was there with us. One of the "rogues" in my class, a kind but rough guy, a manual worker who doesn't do a lot of reading, asked Mr. A if he could please, please read another poem... Yes, he was a special kind. When he passed away last year, the church was filled to the brim and beyond.
Tell me your favourite school memory
You mean except Mr. A...? I feel I'm a bit exhausted by school memories right now. (And so are you, I wager!) But I will say, in general, that learning is my favourite memory on the whole. Trite, but so be it!
Remember I went to a Bo Kaspers Orkester concert?
Remember they're one of my favourite bands, and that the concert was excellent?
Well, I did a - very poor quality - video recording with my mobile phone. Added it to my youtube videos.
And yesterday someone commented on it. And not just anyone, but the guitarist who travels with BKO! He even added the thing to his favourites.
(If you heard a thud just there, that was me falling to the floor.)