Impending Epiphany

My English teacher is one of those cool, young ones. You know the ones I’m talking about. He’ll spend all period talking to some guys about surfing, he points out sexual innuendo in required literature (in the most academically-appropriate way, of course), and he doesn’t mind when his former students ditch class to hang out in his room until the end of the class period.

He’s got one of those classes that you look forward to every day. The kind of guy you would sincerely miss if he had a sub. The reason you don’t want school to end in just a little over two months, because then you’re not going to have something to look forward to every day.

The thing about him is, he’s a very lax teacher. He’s not strict, he’s not mean, and sometimes it seems like he doesn’t push his students to work hard. English is one of the few classes that I really like, so normally, that would bug me. However, this guy seems to be really passionate about writing, which is something I admire and appreciate.

Today, he was showing us this video on motivation (which was emailed to him by the chair of the English department at our school, which was emailed to him by a senior who I happen to know from public speaking) and he was telling us about one of the supposed motivators, which is Mastery. He said that nothing is really fun, you’ll notice, until you get good at it and then you want to keep getting better at it.

“I know I’ve been telling you guys this and you probably think I’m making it up, but I’m not,” he was saying. “Someday, you’re going to be writing an essay or something, and you’ll write something amazing and have a total epiphany and you’ll be really excited about it and you’ll probably write one of the best things you ever write. I remember one time, in my ninth grade English class–yeah, this really happened–I wrote this essay and as I wrote it, I started discovering all these things about myself and the world and it was so amazing and I learned so much from an essay! That was one of the only memorable moments of my freshman year.

“The other one was when I translated a street scene in Romeo and Juliet to ‘gangster’ English; that was pretty cool.”

Sometimes, teachers teach you wonderful things, y’know? I think that’s why I like school: sometimes, you’ll learn something really worthwhile, that you never could have learned on your own, and it’s such a beautiful thing, because you realize how cool everybody else in the world is.

My Algebra teacher last year told us that, if you’re willing to talk to them and if you’re humble enough to accept knowledge from them, everyone you ever meet will have something to teach you. I like this idea.

Well, anyways, I’m going to go to bed and wait for my epiphany. See y’all later, Chickedies!

(I don’t know why I said “y’all”… that’s a contraction–or is it conjunction?–of “you” and “all”… it’s like ustedes or vosotros, in Spanish… But there is no “you”, and there certainly isn’t an “all”, because nobody reads this blog but me… and maybe Riko, but I digress. The point is, I should be saying good night to myself, and not this imaginary you or all that I think I’m speaking to)


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