To Charlie, Tom, Marcus and Robert- With affection
There is an element of parenthood in being a teacher. Sometimes you wish your children (if you could call them that, without insulting them) would listen to you. You worry that they are smoking, drinking and cavorting too much. You are concerned when the projects do not advance at the required pace. You see them grow slowly and then one day in spring they sprout a dark beard which needs trimming. But when they go to Amsterdam in God knows what company you really start wringing your hands in despair thinking of all that weed for sale at The Olympics Cafe. You think they are forsaking the Rembrandt Museum for a six-pack of beer. You feel they are wasting their time. Just like your parents must have felt about you when you were their age.
And so life goes on and on. But then one day college ends and you must see them go. You try to cheat time by taking a picture of you and them just so there is something left, a shred of light from the present which has already become the past.
There is an element of parenthood in being a teacher. Sometimes you wish your children (if you could call them that, without insulting them) would listen to you. You worry that they are smoking, drinking and cavorting too much. You are concerned when the projects do not advance at the required pace. You see them grow slowly and then one day in spring they sprout a dark beard which needs trimming. But when they go to Amsterdam in God knows what company you really start wringing your hands in despair thinking of all that weed for sale at The Olympics Cafe. You think they are forsaking the Rembrandt Museum for a six-pack of beer. You feel they are wasting their time. Just like your parents must have felt about you when you were their age.
And so life goes on and on. But then one day college ends and you must see them go. You try to cheat time by taking a picture of you and them just so there is something left, a shred of light from the present which has already become the past.