Sunday, August 04, 2013


"Drifting Clouds", oil,
by Becky Joy
Yesterday, as I was lazily gazing at some passing clouds and noticing their ever-shifting shapes, I was reminded of the students I taught, each one a constantly reshaping and transforming collection of adolescent liveliness. The clouds I was watching were the kind that seem stable, as though they are solid blobs of matter moving along, but on closer scrutiny become slowly transforming swirls and billows, and, in my long career in the classroom, I often mistook my students in a similar way. They sat in class like solid and separate entities, each one always ostensibly the same, always seemingly set in her or his ways, and yet I know now they weren’t the same from one second to another. Like clouds, they sometimes fooled me with their presumably fixed appearance. You might say they tricked me into taking them for granted – “Oh yeah, here come the same kids I taught yesterday” -- while all along they were transforming as constantly as yesterday’s clouds. It’s a lucky thing to work with youthful miracles that are totally remade each moment, and I, luckiest of all, did it for 45 years!

No comments: