Epiphanies and realizations are not
as instantaneous for me as they may be for others. In truth, the only instantaneous
thing about my brand of epiphany is the awareness that a change needs to
happen, not necessarily how to do it. That for me happened a few weeks ago at a Latin Club meeting before Thanksgiving
break. In a futile attempt, I used that meeting as a practice for one of our novice
Certamen teams for a tournament that following Saturday. The other Latin members
were meant to act as the other teams with which they would be competing. After repeated
requests and pleas for them to be quiet and take this practice seriously, even
after a rant from one of my officers, they continued to talk and be rowdy and
socialize. I resigned myself to a desk next to the buzzer machine and waited
for the long hand of my clock to hit the 2.
There have been other instances
where it seems like my students have been drinking from the Lethe River after
each new lesson:
“How do we know what endings to use?”
“I don’t know what order to put the
words in?”
“I don’t understand the endings.”
What
they have yet to realize is, that these older grammar concepts have not once
been shelved to make way for the newer ones, but rather continually build on
top each other.
The apex of my frustration came last
night at the Holiday Bazaar. Keeping true to what now seems a stale pattern for
Latin Club, we sold baked goods and hot chocolate. Apart from the loyal
contributors, who often also remember to bring things on Mondays, I had to
purchase the remainder of the items so that we would have things enough to
sell. Even then though, with the other clubs, who also were selling baked
goods, it is very possible that we made less than what would make at a Monday
sale. Getting my kids to help clean up was just as laborious. Then after some
random comments about some of the other teachers, the epiphany finally came
full circle: it’s me that needs to change.
I need to stop playing mother to my
children; stop treating them as if they were mine with the unconditional love
only mothers seems to be able to create. I am not a mom and don’t plan to be
for a very long time. These children are not my babies therefore should no
longer be treated as such and I need to stop be treated with the same level of
indifference that some of my kids treat their own mothers.
In my eyes, Latin is no longer a
family, but a nation. A nation of Roman citizens who are to be governed by a
single entity: me, the Ferox Imperatrix. We will learn as a people, fight as a
people, and be glorious as a people. Justice, wisdom and passion will ignite
the apathetic spirits and minds that had once reigned. Complacency is no longer
an option.
Magna
Mater est mortua.
Ferox
Imperatrix est nata.
