August 13: School Days, Oliver de la Paz, "School Years"

Very soon, school is going to be starting up again.  That's one of the things that accompanies the dog days of summer--that vein of sadness from young people who know their sunny time of freedom is about to come to an end.  I have been forbidden by my daughter to mention school in my house at the moment.

This weekend, I will probably put together my syllabi for the fall semester.  I can't avoid it any longer.  In two weeks, I will be teaching again.  I'm excited and sad.  The days are definitely getting shorter.  The weather is getting cooler.  Leaves will be turning mustard and cinnamon colored.  Winter is on the way.

Oliver de la Paz has a poem about school that captures these feelings.

Saint Marty is forbidden to read this poem to his daughter.

School Years

by:  Oliver de la Paz

They last long for Fidelito, who is not of this earth.  With its alphabets and loose-leaf, sheets of construction paper, oranges, blues, lunch boxes, crepe paper, papier-mache, the teacher talk and rasp of chalk, long division, multiplication, pronunciation, spelling and quelled hungers at lunch hour, the recesses of chase the girl/boys catch-as-catch-can, freeze tag, war with rubber balls and big red welts the size of baseballs, war with a deck of cards, war of pencil breaking, or tether ball, kick ball, being goof balls in back near the coat racks, learning to cuss and whistle at the same time, saying Jesus, Mary, Joseph, holy, holy, holy . . . Lord, the girls who dare each other to kiss Fidelito, as he sits in the corner, dazed, watching birds in the frozen light.

I'm not allowed to show this picture to my daughter, either