the mezzo-soprano stands in the wings

June 9, 2011

Over dinner tonight, CH and I hear the familiar sound of a police helicopter.  An unfamiliar noise follows– a loudspeaker urging ——, ——, —— to contact their parents, for anyone knowing their whereabouts to contact the police.

Lahiri reminds me that we have less control over our lives than we would like to think.  I am sobered by the slow unraveling of lives.  Nothing dramatic, simply measured disappointment.

A student asks me, in quick succession, how did you know you wanted to be a teacher?  How did you know you wanted to marry your husband?

Over lunch, I try to explain our summer reading group to my fellow student teacher.  “We read books … and talk about them …”  “That’s it?”

“‘Civil blood makes civil hands unclean.’ Ms. H… that can’t just mean one thing, can it?”

“If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask.”


There are things I do not pretend to understand.


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