2002-06-14
Ken & the forgotten letter, posted at 3:20 p.m.
Epiphany in Baltimore has moved to epiphanyinbaltimore.blogspot.com "It's going to be a long time ago, someday..." - Brenda KahnToday I am once again reminded of the reason Brenda Kahn's masterpiece of an album - her 1992 epic Epiphany in Brooklyn, which should have made her a star and from which this journal gets its name - is my favorite of all time. I'm at work, closing out the year, mentally saying goodbye to the 180 fourteen and fifteen-year olds I attempted to teacher writing and literature to this year.
My favorite student of the entire last year - a kid I'll call Ken here - came into school to take his makeup exam today. He had an asthma attack on the day of finals and couldn't take it at the regular time. Administration handles makeup finals, so I didn't get to see him. He left his completed final and his returned book as footprints that he'd been there. I was sorry I had missed him, but oh well.
But I opened up the manila envelope where his final was, and I noticed the letter I had written him was still there. This was very upsetting to me.
He either read it and left it, which is disconcerting, or he didn't see it, which is disappointing. I'm taking it way too seriously I think, but Ken is a special kid, and I want to make sure he knows it.
In fact, there are two other letters sitting here on my windowsill that students have not picked up, and I'm not terribly concerned. I didn't get to know them as well, and they're a little more generic (indeed, one of the girls who left their letter snuck out three minutes before the final bell yesterday, so I'm a little peeved at her. I'm thinking about mailing the letter to her, then writing a "PS: I was very disappointed in you...").
The whole episode of Ken leaving his letter has gotten me in a melancholy mood. I've got Epiphany in Brooklyn playing in the background right now, and the line that I started this entry with - "It'll be a long time ago, someday" - is somehow prying me out of it. It made me realize that perhaps I'm only clinging onto the Ken episode because this should be a melancholy day. After all, tt's the end of my first year of teaching. I've just given a grade to each of my students, and this act of assigning each student a numerical value is never fun. It's Friday, but it's an off-payday Friday, and the gray, chilly day is certainly a depressent. It's just not a happy day.
The "It'll be a long time ago, someday" - off an obscure track that I had to double-check the name of - has put things in perspective for me. It will be a long time ago, someday. I shouldn't sweat the small stuff. I'll look back at Ken leaving his letter, and laugh. I'll see him next year, and he'll get that little sly grin on his face and that interested twinkle in his eye, and he'll say with his slightly ghettoized vernacular, "No, man, Mr. E, I read it, I just forgot it!" and thank me for it. And he'll continue hurriedly down the hallway, doing his skip-step that makes me think he's really excited to be in school, with his oversized basketball jersee and goofy faux-gangster gold chain ruffling in the wind his stride makes. And I'll realize that he's 14 years old, and he's allowed to do things like forget letters, and that's he's still one of the most amazing kids I've had the pleasure to teach. And all will be well.
All will be well.
PS - I've 99.5% decided on Tobey for the cat's name.