“I hadn’t thought,” Ruby said.
“Nobody thinks anymore,” Mr. Jerger complained.
“I got to be going.”
“Yes, it’s been found,” Mr. Jerger said.
“Where at?” Ruby asked.
—“A Stroke of Good Fortune,” by Flannery O’Connor
While I was sitting at my desk in the back reading the big city newspaper while exams were being taken by more victims of learning, Beauregard walked in to turn in his textbook.
We exchanged pleasantries, but I didn’t ask Beauregard where he should really be right now … what exam should he be taking right now … because sometimes, honestly, you don’t want to know. You just don’t want to know and it feels pretty good when you get to the point in your experience as a teacher when you know when you don’t want to know something.
Beauregard said even though he doesn’t know how to speak or understand the Cherokee language could he have unlimited access to The Globe of Happiness anyway for the rest of his life, please.
Beauregard said please. He really did.
While five other Georgia History scholars watched us, with jaws dropped, I granted unlimited access to The Globe of Happiness to Beauregard for the rest of his life, because he said please, and then I thought to ask where he was going to school next year for ninth grade.
He said right here. Beauregard said he’d been coming to this school since first grade and there wasn’t any reason to change things now.
Next Entry ... May 25: Lost And Unsound