26 September 04
L.A. in a Day
I flew down to Burbank this morning to see my high school English teacher. My high school in England, that is, the progressive co-ed boarding school I fetched up in when my parents got too frightened by the sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll at my school in Madrid (it was there with similar prevalence at Abbotsholme, but by then I was committed to the long, cold, damp Derbyshire winter, and decided to worry them no further).
This teacher has recently retired as head of an even more prominent, progressive co-ed boarding school in England and has decided to take an M.A. through York University on 18th century theatre. We spent a lot of time today at the Huntington Library, just beyond Pasadena.
It’s something when you get to enthuse over the Ellesmere Chaucer—the real one, not a facsimile—with your high school ENGLISH teacher, the one who, 25 years ago, read The Knight’s Tale in a convincingly Chaucerian accent (though, what did WE know about authentic Middle English accents?), to have him take you on a pilgrimage to see Reynolds’ portrait of Mrs. Siddons, to share the joy of blooming cacti. It was a great day.
- What an excellent story. Had you been in touch with your teacher before then? When was the last time he’d seen you? I think that running across one’s former students would be one of the best parts of teaching; I, at least, was always so touched and impressed by those that came back to visit my grandfather, who taught high school english for years. It’s beautiful what a difference in one’s life a good teacher can make, and fun, too, to come back and meet them as /people/.— Siona 27. September 2004, 07:13 Link
- Yes, I have to agree with Siona. I had no desire to stay in touch with any of my teachers from any of my former schools. This one must have been special.— Jenny 28. September 2004, 12:44 Link
- It sounds like it was a great day indeed, I rejoice with you.— elck 28. September 2004, 14:48 Link
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