Expatriate Games

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Tempus Fugit

This weekend we got our first proper snow of the season. On Saturday it rained and drizzled and froze and culminated in a slushy mess at the foot of the driveway, but on Sunday the snow came drifting quietly down in great clumpy flakes. I tried to explain the significance of this to my nephew; he quickly reminded me that at six months old, he's not quite interested in snowmen or sledding yet. In fact, he's not concerned with much beyond bottles and rattles and his auntie's dangly earrings.

I'm rather enjoying Nephew at this age. He's a profoundly happy child. Every time someone pulls a face at him he bursts into laughter, and he stares at me in awe whenever I play the guitar. (He seems to prefer John Mayer to anybody else. We might have to work on this... Sorry, John Mayer.) But as much fun as he is right now, he's growing like a weed. Every time I see him -- which is pretty frequently -- he has a new trick. His newest trick is the fine art of Mobility. Yikes, baby boy!

And while we're speaking of people growing too fast, my students -- most of whom I met two years ago when they were barely sophomores -- are now well on their way to graduation. When I first started teaching at my current school, I taught 10th grade. The following year, I moved up to 11th grade. This year, I'm teaching seniors. The result of my professional evolution has been that I've had the same base group of students for three years and am now inextricably attached to them. I'm up to my eyelids in college application essays they want me to look over and have already written a couple dozen letters of recommendation, but I still can't quite wrap my brain around the idea that they are leaving.

Of course, I plan to thoroughly enjoy them between now and May, and they're making that pretty easy. Not only are they behaving like angels, they're also working harder than ever, in class and out of it. Every year for Thanksgiving, our school has a massive food drive to benefit the community. The kids pour their hearts into fund-raising for it, and this year, of the 28 kids in my AP class, 18 of them were directly involved in the senior class's primary money-maker -- The Senior Auction. As a proud supporter, I went to the auction and "purchased" a trio of my boys. Their task in return for the money I paid was to each perform a soliloquy from Hamlet for their classmates. They did a fantastic job. In addition to their assignment, they also brought me a mass of roses, a box of chocolates, and a latte; made me lunch; and prepared a little N'Sync dance number for the class.

I love these kids.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time?