Eccentric

I remember sitting in Dr.Carol Christ's class at Cal in 2001 while she told us a story about Dante Gabriel Rossetti burying his poems with his dead wife as an act of love...only to later succumb to the pressure of his preraphaelite friends and exhume her body. He then published this collection. I want these poems that have slept with the dead and almost weren't. There was a time in my life when I identified with the eccentric. Growing up or growing down, I'm not sure which, but now they are more "they" than "we." Here is one poem that got him in a lot of trouble with "the establishment." They accused him of what I used to call "cheating"--writing about sex. It's already stimulating, so a poet always has the upper hand when choosing this topic. But cheating can be beautiful as shown here...

Nuptial Sleep

At length their long kiss severed with sweet smart:
And as the last slow sudden drops are shed
From sparkling eaves when all the storm has fled,
So singly flagged the pulses of each heart.
Their bosoms sundered, with the opening start
Of married flowers to either side outspread
From the knit stem; yet still their mouths, burnt red, Fawned on each other where they lay apart.

Sleep sank them lower than the tide of dreams,
And their dreams watched them sink, and slid away. Slowly their souls swam up again, through gleams
Of watered light and dull drowned waifs of day;
Till from some wonder of new woods and streams
He woke, and wondered more. For there she lay.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti

There should be a High School Entrance Exam

At our staff development the other day, many teachers complained about being faced with trying to simultaneously teach remedial skills as well as the grade level standards. Someone joked, "There should be a high school ENTRANCE exam." I hate the CAHSEE. It is a big joke. Last year 4% of seniors in CA did not graduate because of the CAHSEE. Some would say that that is a small percentage. But looking at the percentage, I can make an educated guess that most of those students are English Language Learners. Not passing this exam can stunt a student's desire to continue learning. Drat. I have a student who I feel was mainstreamed way to early. She can't process simple words in reading or writing, but socially she is fine. Because of this she has trouble not only processing definitions, but abstract concepts like author's purpose, themes, main ideas versus supporting details, etc. All of these things that are easily grasped by other students are like climbing mountains for her. Also, her native English is not Latin based and has a completely different alphabet and grammar structure. I see the numbing level of frustration in her face when I am tutoring her. I see the days of the calendar getting closer and closer to her "last chance." She will most likely not cross the stage on graduation day. She will be among that seemingly small percentage that will not graduate. Conservative talk show hosts will scoff, "Too bad! You don't have basic skills! You don't deserve a high school diploma! You didn't try hard enough." They don't know this girl. They won't see her buckling under her tears when other students celebrate their results in front of her in my CAHSEE class. I hope this scenario doesn't repeat from last year.

Each year that passes, I can fondly remember this student or that student. The student that will always get an F, but can remember a vocabulary word of theme from a Shakespearean play we studied 3 years before. The student who always made you feel like you had a booger on your face and toilet paper stuck to your shoe and then asked to be your TA the next year. The student who came back the next year to say she wishes she had you this year and wishes you'd stay just one more year. There are so many. The student who stays after an hour to talk about a book you lent him/her. But each year, I carry around these small ghosts of students whom I felt that I failed. Not as in F. But that because my best wasn't good enough, their life suffered. People might say that that is ridiculous, that I give myself too much credit. But I can't help it. I can't say their names here, but I could tell you how beautiful they were. And they showed me parts of me I didn't know existed. And even though I may have had their numbers on day one (you're beautiful and you don't know it / you're scared so you try to scare others / you will be fine after all this even though you don't get a diploma), I can't help but keep their ghosts close and play out different scenarios even though I know the way it ended.