I Send My Blessing

Things have been complicated here. I have a lot to think about, and therefore to write about I guess. Mostly though, I'm just waiting for things to happen, like I have my first college audition this Friday and Walkabout starts a week from today. But my life as I've had it for three and a half years is ending, my last exam finished, my last essay turned in. And something significant happened yesterday, something painful and shocking.

Yesterday my last exam was choir, and my director decided to just have a two hour rehearsal. I approached the class with focused nostalgia and ceremonial dedication: this is my last choir class, I told myself. I may never sing with these people again. And then, as I set myself through these careful, ritualized mental paces, my friend received a text message. She leaned over and made me read it:

"Larry had a seizure during the U.S. History exam."

Before I go on, I should explain a bit the nature of the school I go to. It's called the Linworth Alternative Program, and it's a small school of less than 200 students. We take some classes at Linworth and some classes—like band and choir—at the main high schools where the rest of the district goes. Linworth is unique in many, many subtle ways. The walls are covered in artwork, decisions are made at Town Meeting with the whole school instead of a student government—and everyone, even teachers, vote equally. Teachers are called by their first names. And senior year, we leave second semester on internships and independent studies, all over the world.

Larry has been teaching at Linworth longer than any other teacher, and even though he has threatened retirement, his not teaching seems almost impossible. He seems almost like a part of the school itself, so integral to the experience, a legend to incoming freshman. And he's a truly amazing teacher. This so the shock of that message seemed to make everything stop and turn unreal.

Yet the world doesn't stop turning for that. I have to be ready for my audition this Friday, and the next on Monday. I had to finish exam week even with that news, and Walkabout will go on as planned. Things go on just like always, except from time to time you remember that there's something really wrong.