Wednesday, September 15, 2010

You Are What You Are

Another early autumn, another school year. I miss my students---well, most of them. I miss calling each one "student." Most of them didn't like that. My colleagues called them "kids," a word which I (and my own old-time teachers) always considered second-rate English, to be used not of children beyond elementary-grade age, and to be used only in private in family circles. It always baffled me why teachers wouldn't call their clients by the one word which most precisely and with dignity signifies what they are: "student." Then I tried calling the youngsters by these other words: backpacker, deskoccupier, hallrambler, testbomber, "hey, you"---but they didn't like those names either.

Oddly, almost none of my students objected to being called "Christian" or "Catholic," although "Christian" appears only four or five times in the entire New Testament, and "Catholic" appears not at all. The word, "disciple," which the students would also proudly accept, appears almost 300 times in the N.T. Guess what "disciple" means? "Student."

4 comments:

FormerStudent#9 said...

I know I speak for an ambiguous number of your former students when I say we miss being your students as well.

One of my favorite things about your tests was how you encouraged us to draw on the back of the test paper when we were done. You would then write responses to / comments on our drawings... too bad we couldn't keep the tests. I would have saved all mine for the nostalgic laughs.

Old Gargoyle said...

Former Student #9, I think I photographed all those drawings, published them in a small book, and made a small fortune--if I remember correctly. No, no royalties paid to former students.

FormerStudent#9 said...

If I didn't suspect that your death valley levels of dry humor were not at play here, my $19.99 plus shipping and handling would be in the mail right now for a signed copy... but seriously do you still have any of those old things?

Old Gargoyle said...

Former Student #9, it's difficult to say. You see, about ten years ago I became a hoader. So if those old test drawings are in one of my rooms, they're under six or so feet of--let's not call it trash--let's call it "collectables." We can think of them now as buried memories.