Vatican To Return Fragments of the Parthenon

Photograph of the the Vatican fragments (courtesy of Kathimerini newspaper) frpm the Greek City Times article (referenced below)

Pope Francis has decided that it is time for the Vatican to return some fragments from the Parthenon in Athens. The Greek City Times reported this development after a recent visit by the Pope to Greece. Even though the article reports that the Pontiff does not intend this move to be seen as a prod to the British Museum to return the Elgin Marbles, one can hope that it provides another example and opportunity to review and reconsider the ongoing dispute. 

Did the Greeks Found Rome?

An article in the Greek Reporter reminds us that the story of Romulus and Remus is not the only one to consider when pondering the founding of Rome:

...what many people do not know is that Greek legend tells us that [the city founded by Romulus] was not actually the first settlement that existed on the Palatine Hill. Before Rome, there was a Greek city which existed in the same place.

Romulus and Remus, the Lupercal, Father Tiber, and the Palatine on a relief from a pedestal dating to the reign of Trajan (AD 98-117). By Marie-Lan Nguyen (2006), Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1233398

Suetonius Describes the Death of Caesar

The Ides of March are nearly upon us, so I thought I would mark the occasion with a reading of Suetonius' description of the assassination of Julius Caesar. So many people today know of this episode from history through Shakespeare's telling of the tale, but it is obvious, after reading the passage below, that the bard was familiar with this passage (Suetonius, Divus Iulius, 82):

Assidentem conspirati specie officii circumsteterunt, ilicoque Cimber Tillius, qui primas partes susceperat, quasi aliquid rogaturus propius accessit renuentique et gestu in aliud tempus differenti ab utroque umero togam adprehendit: deinde clamantem: 'ista quidem vis est!' alter e Cascis aversum vulnerat paulum infra iugulum. Caesar Cascae brachium arreptum graphio traiecit conatusque prosilire alio vulnere tardatus est; utque animadvertit undique se strictis pugionibus peti, toga caput obvoluit, simul sinistra manu sinum ad ima crura deduxit, quo honestius caderet etiam inferiore corporis parte velata. Atque ita tribus et viginti plagis confossus est uno modo ad primum ictum gemitu sine voce edito, etsi tradiderunt quidam Marco Bruto irruenti dixisse: καὶ σὺ τέκνον; Exanimis diffugientibus cunctis aliquamdiu iacuit, donec lecticae impositum, dependente brachio, tres servoli domum rettulerunt. Nec in tot vulneribus, ut Antistius medicus existimabat, letale ullum repertum est, nisi quod secundo loco in pectore acceperat.

Fuerat animus coniuratis corpus occisi in Tiberim trahere, bona publicare, acta rescindere, sed metu Marci Antoni consulis et magistri equitum Lepidi destiterunt. 

I translate this into English as,

The conspirators, with the appearance of duty, gathered around him (Caesar) as he was sitting down, and immediately Tillius Cimber, who had chosen the first role, approached nearer, as if about to ask something, and, as Caesar was dismissing him and, with a gesture, waving him off to another time, he grabbed his toga by each shoulder: then, with Cesar shouting, "This indeed is violence!" one of the Casci, standing behind, wounded him a little below the throat. Caesar grabbed Casca's arm and stabbed it with a stilus. and then having tried to jump up he was prevented by another wound; and as he noticed on all sides that he was being attacked by drawn daggers, he covered his head with his toga, at the same time with his left hand he drew down the lap to the bottom of his legs, in order that he might fall more decently, with also the lower part of his body covered. And in this way he was stabbed with twenty-three blows, with only one groan, without a word, given at the first blow, although certain ones have related that he had said to Marcus Brutus rushing toward (him): "You too, son?" He lay lifeless for quite a while with all the others scattering, until three young slaves placed him on a litter, with an arm hanging down,  and carried him back home. And, as his doctor Antistius estimated, not any of his so many wounds was found lethal, except the one he had received in the second place on his chest.

It had been the intention of the conspirators to drag the body of the deceased into the Tiber River, to confiscate his property, and to cancel his business in the senate, but because of the fear of Marc Antony, the consul, and of Lepidus, the magister equitum, they stopped.

St. Patrick Writes About Himself

In honor of St. Patrick's Day, I thought I would take a look at some of the fifth-century Latin written by this remarkable individual and patron saint of Ireland. Take a look at the very useful website St. Patrick's Confessio, which allows one to "[r]ead what St. Patrick actually wrote in his own words."

Epistola ad milites Corotici, X

Numquid sine Deo vel secundum carnem Hiberione veni? Quis me compulit? Alligatus sum Spiritu ut non videam aliquem de cognatione mea. Numquid a me piam misericordiam quod ago erga gentem illam qui me aliquando ceperunt et devastaverunt servos et ancillas domus patris mei? Ingenuus fui secundum carnem; decorione patre nascor. Vendidi enim nobilitatem meam -- non erubesco neque me paenitet -- pro utilitate aliorum; denique servus sum in Christo genti exterae ob gloriam ineffabilem perennis vitae quae est in Christo Iesu Domino nostro.

Here is the source of the text; the translation below is my own.

A letter to the soldiers of Coroticus (10)

Is it possible that I came to Ireland without God, even following my own flesh? Who compelled me? I have been so bound by the Spirit that I do not see anyone of my own family. Is it possible that I grant holy mercy from myself towards that people who once captured me and killed the enslaved men and women of my father's house? I was a free-born according to the flesh; I was born from my father, a decurion. Indeed I sold my noble status for the service of others -- I am not ashamed of this and I do not regret it; accordingly I am a servant in Christ for people of a foreign land on account of the indescribable glory of everlasting life which is in Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Remains from the Temple of Vespasian

I was looking through a folder of photographs from a trip to Rome in 2014 and came across this interesting pic of a well-preserved portion of the entablature of the Temple of Vespasian and Titus in the Roman Forum. The piece itself is now on display in the Capitoline Museum, and from the appearance of the archway to the back of this image, I am thinking it is located in the portion of the museum which is housed in the remains of the Tabularium, which overlooks the ruins of the Forum.

For a lot of good information about how this portion of the frieze survived and what is depicted by the images carved there, take a look at this report from the Library of Symbolism.

Venus Pays a Visit to Jupiter

I posted this pic of the conjunction of the planets Venus and Jupiter on the evening of March 1, 2023 on my other social media and added the caption, "Jupiter and Venus canoodling in the heavens this evening." Even better, a few fellow Latin teachers suggested this passage from Vergil's Aeneid in which Venus visits Jupiter and pleads for rest and safety for her long-suffering Trojans:

Atque illum talis iactantem pectore curas
tristior et lacrimis oculos suffusa nitentis
adloquitur Venus: 'O qui res hominumque deumque
aeternis regis imperiis, et fulmine terres,
quid meus Aeneas in te committere tantum,
quid Troes potuere, quibus, tot funera passis,
cunctus ob Italiam terrarum clauditur orbis?
Certe hinc Romanos olim, volventibus annis,
hinc fore ductores, revocato a sanguine Teucri,
qui mare, qui terras omni dicione tenerent,
pollicitus, quae te, genitor, sententia vertit?
Hoc equidem occasum Troiae tristisque ruinas
solabar, fatis contraria fata rependens;
nunc eadem fortuna viros tot casibus actos
insequitur. Quem das finem, rex magne, laborum?...
Hic pietatis honos? Sic nos in sceptra reponis?'

Olli subridens hominum sator atque deorum,
voltu, quo caelum tempestatesque serenat,
oscula libavit natae, dehinc talia fatur:
'Parce metu, Cytherea: manent immota tuorum
fata tibi; cernes urbem et promissa Lavini
moenia, sublimemque feres ad sidera caeli
magnanimum Aenean; neque me sententia vertit.
Hic tibi (fabor enim, quando haec te cura remordet,
longius et volvens fatorum arcana movebo)
bellum ingens geret Italia, populosque feroces
contundet, moresque viris et moenia ponet,
tertia dum Latio regnantem viderit aestas,
ternaque transierint Rutulis hiberna subactis.
At puer Ascanius, cui nunc cognomen Iulo
additur,—Ilus erat, dum res stetit Ilia regno,—
triginta magnos volvendis mensibus orbis
imperio explebit, regnumque ab sede Lavini
transferet, et longam multa vi muniet Albam.
Hic iam ter centum totos regnabitur annos
gente sub Hectorea, donec regina sacerdos,
Marte gravis, geminam partu dabit Ilia prolem.
Inde lupae fulvo nutricis tegmine laetus
Romulus excipiet gentem, et Mavortia condet
moenia, Romanosque suo de nomine dicet.
His ego nec metas rerum nec tempora pono;
imperium sine fine dedi. Quin aspera Iuno,
quae mare nunc terrasque metu caelumque fatigat,
consilia in melius referet, mecumque fovebit
Romanos rerum dominos gentemque togatam:
sic placitum. Veniet lustris labentibus aetas,
cum domus Assaraci Phthiam clarasque Mycenas
servitio premet, ac victis dominabitur Argis.
Nascetur pulchra Troianus origine Caesar,
imperium oceano, famam qui terminet astris,—
Iulius, a magno demissum nomen Iulo.
Hunc tu olim caelo, spoliis Orientis onustum,
accipies secura; vocabitur hic quoque votis.
Aspera tum positis mitescent saecula bellis;
cana Fides, et Vesta, Remo cum fratre Quirinus,
iura dabunt; dirae ferro et compagibus artis
claudentur Belli portae; Furor impius intus,
saeva sedens super arma, et centum vinctus aenis
post tergum nodis, fremet horridus ore cruento.'

Vergil's Aeneid I.227-241, 253-296

And here is my translation:

And so Venus, rather sad and swollen around her eyes glistening with tears,
pleads with that one pondering such concerns in his heart:
"Oh you who rule the affairs of men and gods with everlasting power,
and you who strike fear with the lightning bolt,
what so great offense has my Aeneas, what have the Trojans,
been able to commit against you, for whom, having suffered so many deaths,
the whole, wide world is closed because of Italy?
You actually promised that after this there would be Romans one day,
in the coming years, that after this they would be the leaders,
rising from the renewed blood of the Trojans,
who would hold the sea, the lands under all their domain.
What notion has changed your mind, father?
On my end I was soothing this fall and the sad ruins of Troy,
weighing out their past fates against future ones;
now the luck fortune pursues these men driven by so many misfortunes.
When will you, great king, bring an end to their sufferings?
This is their reward for our dutifulness? This is how you put us in power?"

Smiling down at her, the father of men and gods,
with that expression, by which he calms the sky and storms,
gave a kiss to his daughter, and then  says these words:
"Don't be afraid, Cytherea: the fates of your people remain unchanged for you;
you will see the city and the promised walls of Lavinium,
and you will carry great-souled Aeneas on high to the stars of heaven;
and no notion changes my mind. This one will wage a huge war
for you in Italy (for I will prophesy, since this concern worries you,
and I will reveal further things unknown), and he will defeat fierce peoples,
and put in place customs and walls for these men,
until a third summer has seen him ruling in Latium,
and a third winter has passed with the Rutulians subdued.
But the boy Ascanius, who now is called Iulus,
-- he used to be Ilus, while the kingdom of Troy stood --,
will fill out thirty great years in power with the months rolling along,
and he will move the kingdom from the seat of Lavinium,
and he will build Alba Longa with much strength.
Here now it will be ruled for three hundred whole years
beneath the race of Hector, until Ilia, a queen, a priestess,
pregnant by Mars, will give birth to twin offspring.
From that point Romulus, happy in the tawny hide of a nursemaid wolf
will continue the race, and will found the walls of Mars,
and he will name his people Romans after his own name.
I do not put limits or a timeframe on this things;
I have granted rule without end. Indeed harsh Juno,
who now wears out the sea and lands and heaven with fear
will change her plans for the better, and along with me
she will cherish the Romans as the masters of all things
and the toga-clad race: in this way it will be pleasing.
The time will come in the passing years,
when the House of Assaracus will hold sway over Phthia
and famous Mycenae, and it will be lord over the conquered Greeks.
A Trojan Caesar will be born from a glorious family,
who extends the empire to the ocean, and his fame to the stars,
-- he will be called Iulius, a name sent down from great Iulus.
One day you, untroubled, will welcome him, laden with the spoils
of the East, to the heavens; he, too, will be called upon by prayers.
Then these harsh ages will become calm with wars put aside;
grey-haired Faith, and Vesta, Quirinus with his brother Remus,
will give laws; the dire gates of War will be shut by iron
and close-fitting locks; wicked Madness, sitting inside
on top of savage arms, and bound by a hundred bronze knots
behind his back, will roars horribly from his bloody mouth."

That March Boy Martial

Today is March 1st, the birthday of the Roman poet Marcus Valerius Martialis, commonly called Martial. I would often teach about Martial and his poetry to my Latin students as they were making the transition between textbook Latin and authentic Latin literature.

In honor of the poet's birthday, here is the less-than-humble epigram he wrote to introduce his work:

Hic est quem legis ille, quem requiris,

toto notus in orbe Martialis

argutis epigrammaton libellis:

cui, lector studiose, quod dedisti

uiuenti decus atque sentienti,

rari post cineres habent poetae.

                                                                    Martial, Epigrams I.1 

And my translation:

Here's that guy you read, who you're looking for,

Martial, known in the whole, wide world

for his witty little books of epigrams.

The props you have given him, eager reader,

while still alive and awake,

few poets get after they're dead. 

 

Here is the information about his life and works I would distribute to my students:

Marcus Valerius Martialis, known commonly as Martial, perfected the Latin epigram as a literary artform. He penned well over 1,500 poems, each one on a single, specific topic. His work became popular among the Romans and was imitated by the poets of the empire and Renaissance and it still serves as the model for writers of epigrams today.

HISTORY AND CAREER

Martial was born around AD 40 in Bilbilis in the Roman province of Hispania.  He was given the cognomen Martialis because he was born on the Kalends of March. After spending most of his life in and around Rome, he returned to his hometown late in life and died there around 104.

After receiving a good education, Martial made his way to Rome in about 64.  There he made the acquaintance of several of the notable authors of the day, including Juvenal and fellow Spaniards Quintilian, Seneca the Younger, and Lucan. He quickly learned of life in the center of the empire after both Seneca and Lucan were ordered to commit suicide upon being linked with the conspiracy of Lucius Calpurnius Piso in 65.

Martial, of humble, provincial origins, had to rely upon his writing talent to make ends meet in the big city. In his own poetry he writes of being poor and having to climb up three flights of stairs to his humble apartment. He also writes that his patrons were not very generous. As his fame grew, his conditions improved and he makes mention of a small house on the Quirinal Hill and a cottage in nearby Nomentum, a small town in Latium. He was also awarded the honorary rank of military tribune and, although not married, was granted the ius trium liberorum, giving him tax exemption and other privileges usually reserved for fathers of three children.

HIS WORKS

The term epigram comes from the Greek epi meaning “upon” and graphein meaning “to write.” Its origins lie in the precision and economy of inscriptions on monuments and tombstones, but it was later developed into its own genre by the Greeks. Before Martial, Catullus from the 1^st century BC, reigned as the king of epigrams, often writing about love and hate and the struggles with his relationships. Following Catullus’ inspiration, many writers of the late republic and early empire penned epigrams, but very few of their works have survived. Martial perfected the form, writing to the point and without the weighty mythological similes and allusions so common in Latin lyric and epic poetry. Many of his poems consist of a single couplet with only a few exceeding twenty lines. Most of his epigrams are written in elegiac couplets; a sixth in hendecasyllabics, some 80 are choliambics, a few in iambics and hexameters.

Martial’s first known work was the Liber Spectaculorum, a collection of poems commemorating the opening of the Colosseum in Rome in AD 80. Thirty-six of the poems have survived, most of them praising the emperor Titus and providing valuable information about his inaugural games.

Around 84, Martial published a series of elegiac couplets used as labels on gifts given to friends and guests attending banquets during the Saturnalia. These gifts included food, drinks, clothing, stationary, furniture, toys, artwork, pets, and even slaves. Later, these epigrams would become Books XIII and XIV of his complete collection of Epigrams.

In the ensuing years 86-98, Martial produced eleven volumes of his most famous work of Epigrams. Like all good authors, Martial wrote about the world around him, including the memorable characters and follies he saw every day in the bustling, cosmopolitan streets of Rome. His subject matter includes poignant anecdotes and affections for true friends, acquaintances, admirable heroes from Roman history, faithful wives and slaves, the joys of country life and his Spanish homeland.  He is better known for his commentary on the seedier inhabitants of Rome: fortune-tellers, drunks, lovers, critics, and hypocrites. He also wrote in praise and complaint about his patrons and fellow poets. Finally, as a dutiful client, some of his poems are addressed to the emperor Domitian. They are marked by obvious flattery or overt praise, most likely as a means of insuring preservation and support from the principate.

A large number of Martial’s epigrams are obscene, causing him to preface several of his books with defensive comments and he cites Catullus as a precedent. Perhaps in response to criticism, he dedicated Book V to matronae puerique virginesque and Book VIII has no poems on objectionable subjects. While most of his poems are addressed to an individual, many of the names are probably pseudonyms. He wrote that it was his custom parcere personis, dicere de vitiis = “to spare the people but reveal their vices.”

Around 100, Martial had exhausted his material and tired of Rome. He returned to Bilbilis and settled down comfortably on a farm given to him by a patroness. It was there that he wrote his twelfth book in the winter of 101. While the specific date is not known, Pliny the Younger, in one of his epistles, praises Martial and mentions his death in 104.

SOURCES

Lilian Feder, The Meridian Handbook of Classical Literature. New York: New American Library, 1986.

M. C. Howatson, ed., The Oxford Companion to Classical Literature, 2^nd edition. New York: Oxford University Press, 1989.

 

All About That JCL Motto: A Keynote Address

Last fall, I was invited to give the keynote address at the 2022 Virginia Junior Classical League Convention in Richmond. Here is the fleshed out version of the presentation given by outline:

"Thank you, Chloe (VJCL President who had just introduced me)! Salvete, omnes! Quid agitis? I am honored to be the keynote speaker for this 70th anniversary of the Virginia Junior Classical League Convention. I never expected I would be here today, speaking before such an enthusiastic gathering of Latin students and teachers -- I must admit that I am a bit flattered that you still want to hear from me -- nor had I ever expected to be attending a VJCL convention in the past. As a high school student, I didn't even know about JCL and all its activities. As a college student, I still didn't know about all the fun and camaraderie. As a first-year teacher? Nope, still not aware of the JCL love. But everything changed my second year after I changed schools. David Winn, my colleague at a neighboring school in my new school system, introduced me to the glory that is JCL, and I ended up attending 31 state conventions and even four national ones. In order to discover these new experiences, I had changed my location, changed my mindset, opened myself up to new ideas, and here I am 35 years later.

JCL's theme for 2022-2023 is caelum, non animum mutant, qui trans mare currunt. This passage comes from Horace's Epistles I.11 and, in order to fully its meaning, you have to read this line in the context of the entire poem -- context is important for almost everything in our lives. Here's an outline of the poem addressed to a certain Bullatius:

• Lines 1-10: Horace asks Bullatius about his impressions of all those famous and fancy cities in the Greek East
• Lines 11-21: Horace reminds Bullatius that he is and, therefore, we are responsible for our own happiness
• Lines 22-30 (the section from which our theme arises): Horace advises Bullatius to enjoy each hour as it passes -- an echo of his carpe diem theme in his Odes.

Now, what is the context of our theme and what does it all mean? Again, caelum, non animum mutant, qui trans mare currunt, and here is my translation of the last section of this Epistle:

You be thankful for whatever time god has granted you

and do not put sweet things off until next year,

so that, wherever you have been, you can say that you lived happily;

for if reason and discretion carry away our troubles,

and not a place looking out over a wide stretch of sea,

those, who rush across the sea, change their location, not their mindset.

Idle busyness troubles all of us; with ships and chariots

we seek to live well. What you seek is right here,

it's at Ulubrae, if you keep a level head.

Note: Ulubrae is a tiny village, literally a back-water, located on the Pomptine Marshes near Rome and famous for its incessantly noisy frogs.

So, what is the relevance of this theme to us as we celebrate all things JCL? There is a big, beautiful world out there -- go experience it! In other words, when in Rome, do (somewhat) as the Romans do. But, keep yourself grounded with the comforts and familiarity of home. You must enjoy life as it comes, as you have it, as you know it -- seize the day! Don't go rushing off to new places simply expecting things to be different -- you can change your sky, your location (caelum), but to live the happy life, you have to change what's inside you, you mind, your heart, your mindset (animus).

So, on that note, I wish you a fun, exciting, and educational VJCL convention! Thank you!"

Do Not Seize the Day

It seems today is the day for classical literacy. Behold this humorous take on the whole carpe diem theme:

ad nauseam

I came across "ad nauseam" twice this morning in my readings. The Latin phrase means "to the point of sickness or disgust," particularly referring to seasickness, that wretching result experienced by those sailing upon a fitful sea. It is used adverbially (I never stopped to think about its part of speech) to indicate that some action has gone on far too long and is beginning to make the recipient ill, or wish they were sick to make a hasty exit.

Attempting to find a classical source for this phrase, I entered into the Perseus Digital Library which holds allows scholars to search Greek and Latin texts for words exactly like this, and I found no such occurrence from the ancient world.

The online Merriam-Webster Dictionary indicates that the phrase was first used in 1644, but does not cite any context or source. Furthermore, the entry for ad nauseam in the online Collins Dictionary offers this nifty chart of how often this phrase appears throughout the history of literature:

Who would have thought that ad nauseam would have its hey-day in the early to mid-20th century?

This phrase sounds a but hyperbolic, but I have had the experience of enduring a situation which lasted well to the point of sickness. I once was in Rome with my students on a guided tour, on which the clueless tour guide marched us directly up the stairs in the Colosseum to a sunny, open spot in a ruined vault and then lectured us about the history of Rome. We stood crowded together in the hot, Italian sun for nearly an hour. At the end of this history lesson which droned on ad nauseam, we were hot, a little burned, sweating, becoming dizzy, and a bit nauseous. Needless to say, we had to nudge him along from this lecturn and move us on to more interesting things.

Finally, while rooting around and looking for interesting things about ad nauseam, I came across a fun entry from Heidi Stevens at the Chicago Tribune: give it a read.

Short, Doable Latin

David Pellegrino, a retired, high school Latin teacher who lives in Upstate New York, occasionally shares on Facebook "short, doable Latin," which teachers can use with their students. Here is his post from Friday, February 24:

Cicero Basilo sal.

Tibi gratulor, mihi gaudeo; te amo, tua tueor; a te amari et, quid agas quidque agatur, certior fieri volo.

Cicero, Ad Familiares VI.15

I particularly like the passage's variety of pronouns, something students frequently need to review: tibi, mihi, te, and a te, not to mention the substantive use of the possessive adjective tua. Reading this letter also gives the opportunity to review the subjunctive use of the indirect question: quid agas quidque agatur set up by the Latin idiom certior fieri. There is a lot of Latin packed into this brief missive.

Here is my literal translation in the Latin word order:

"Cicero to Basilus greetings. To you I give thanks; for myself I rejoice; you I love, your things I watch over; by you to be loved and, what you are doing and what is being done, more certain to be made I want."

Now here is my polished translation:

"Greetings to Basilus from Cicero! Congratulations to you! I am so happy! I love you and am taking care of your personal affairs. I hope the feelings are mutual. Let me know how you're doing and what's going on."

Apparently this is the congratulatory message sent by Cicero to one Lucius Minucius Basilus, one of the conspirators who is taking refuge or has fled after the assassination of Julius Caesar. This context explains the expressions of congratulations, thanks, and affection for Basilus from Cicero, who was no fan of Caesar or his politics.

The Emperor Decius Still Looks On

A bust of the Roman emperor Decius, who ruled during the mid-3rd century CE. I captured this image in the Capitoline Museums during my last visit to Rome in 2014. I love the angle and the contrast between the light and shadows.

Otium cum dignitate

Retirement came easily, more easily than I had expected or ever planned. When I began my teaching career in 1987, retirement was far from my thoughts, as it should have been. The end was far too final and much too far away to be considered. In subsequent years, when retirement was mentioned or experienced by colleagues, I replied that this was not in the realm of possibility for me, and, besides, what would I do? How would I spend my time? How could I ever afford it? I would often say that I would teach as long as I could and they would have to drag me out of the classroom.

 

Fast forward to 2021. The world was different, and I had changed, too, having grown older, wiser, and more experienced, but frustrations, disillusionment, and the constant grind was wearing me down. Teaching and learning and life were nothing like they were back in the '80s. Sometimes I thought that those issues which distracted from my ability to make a positive difference came from my failure to completely grow and adapt to the world changing around me. Other times I thought the opposite, that I was doing the right thing in the best way, and the world was failing to conform to me. I guess this statement says a lot about the accuracy of my thoughts.

Beginning around 2015, teaching started to become more difficult for me, socially, physically, emotionally, and practically. Demands from students, parents, and administrators continued to increase. There were increasingly more distractions, more discouraging criticism from local, state, and national politics, leading to less accountability for real growth by students, resulting in much less satisfaction and enjoyment.

My final day in the classroom was Thursday, March 12, 2020. The reports of the spread of COVID-19 were becoming more dire and frightening. My school division closed all its schools for that Friday (yes, the 13th) before spring break scheduled for the next week. They would soon add an extra week to spring break in an attempt to give the spread of this disease time to level off and begin to decline. The pandemic was upon us. We would not return to school for the rest of the school year. Attempts were made to provide work and enrichment, but very few students participated. We all know the stories.

For the 2020-2021 school year, a year like no other for teachers, students, and parents, I spent the first semester teaching online from home. Because of health concerns exacerbated by some medical conditions, I opted to isolate myself from possible exposure to the coronavirus. Teaching remotely was not an easy task. I had some students (some physically attending school and just as many tuning in from home) at my high school and, due to declining enrollment, others at a neighboring middle school. This teaching assignment with two schools give rise to different class schedules, nine different preparations, different online platforms, and wholly different expectations. To be sure, it became tedious, overwhelming, and wholly unsustainable.

For the second semester I was among the lucky few who, with a letter from my physician, were granted the extension to continue teaching from home. I continued to press forward through a heavily-adapted curriculum, trying to remain upbeat and positive, and even offering after-school activities for those few students who wanted to keep the Latin Club alive. But I knew that I could not continue like this, then things started to happy quickly. At an annual meeting with our financial advisor, I commented, half-jokingly, that I would like to retire, an idea I didn't think possible because of the financial uncertainties. He crunched the numbers and said confidently, "Yeah, you can do that. We can make that work." I was surprised and even relieved, but I did not hesitate. My reply was, "Great! Let's make it happen!" I contacted our school system's Human Resources Department and got started on the paperwork, which was a more complicated task that I had anticipated, but it really didn't matter. I had made my decision to bring my teaching career to a close and working through the bureaucracy was going to be well worth it.

Almost a year to the day of that last time in my classroom, during the second spring break of teaching during the pandemic, I returned to school with my wife and son. I entered my room, which had now been reassigned to an English teacher, and packed up my belongings which had been moved to the side and the back. We hauled off my books, posters, toys, and other personal items from there and from storage, and then I snapped the last photograph, locked the door, and left the building, without seeing or speaking to anyone. I wanted to leave quietly.

I finished out this last semester, struggling to keep the students moving forward. I didn't make any formal announcement about not coming coming back the next year until word got out, as it it typically does. I can still remember that last day in late May as vividly as my very first one 34 years earlier. There are certain things you can never forget. I finished that last day, trying to impart some final words of wisdom to my students, but not really meeting with success. The "final bell" rang, the students signed out, and I shut down Google Classroom. I turned off my computer. I was done.

When I walked into my classroom for the very time, I didn't know or care what my last day teaching would be like, but I know neither I nor anyone else would have anticipated how teaching would work during a global pandemic. Indeed, these circumstances hastened my exit and made it a much more logical decision to make. It provided an easy and logical end to my career.

Many Happy Returns

I am returning to my blog after a nearly five-year hiatus. Of course this statement is technically correct, but I notice I really haven't published more than 10 posts a year since 2011, and that was 12 years ago. I am also quite surprised to see that it has been a little over 17 years since I started this whole on-again, off-again venture. I must admit that my writing has often been abandoned but not entirely forgotten. These breaks from writing have not been intentional, but, as a teacher, penning your thoughts and sharing them to the world has always been one of those activities which has always taken a back seat to more pressing and necessary tasks. Now, though, the urge to write and compose and post has returned. We'll see how this goes.

After opening my neglected blog yesterday, and then resetting the password to regain the ability to make edits, I began to tinker with the site, make some updates, and reread some of my old posts. Oh boy, I really do need to revise and polish some of those earlier articles! The biggest change I made to the site, though, (and this is a doozy) is the addition of the adjective "retired" to the phrase "high school Latin teacher" in the subtitle. Much more about that news later!

Calling for a Culling

Hello! My name is Mark, and I am hoarder of classroom materials.

I finished the annual task of packing up and cleaning out my classroom today. For the very first time I chose to leave the posters on the walls, if for no other reason than I did not want to spend the extra time to take them down.

Everything but the furniture must be hauled out by the teachers so that the floors can be cleaned, stripped, and waxed. Fortunately the custodians handle the task of moving the desks, shelves, filing cabinet, and closet on (wheels). All of this is accomplished by a couple weeks before the start of school, and then we haul everything back in and set things back in order.

After I moved my last cart of books and boxes, I noticed that I have much more than a small amount of stuff squirreled away. Take a look:

Yes. Count them. Six cubbies, three cabinets, and spillage out into the floor. All filled with boxes of books, files, desk accessories, decor, toys, arts and crafts supplies, etc. Looking closer will reveal sets and backgrounds from at least two homecoming floats. All of this useful and important in its own time and place, but a pain to pack and move when the building is dark and silent.

I had planned to spend a part of this year to set it all out and then to find it a better home or send it into the trashcan. The goal was reduce my stash to fewer cubbies... but it somehow grew to more! I now admit that I do have a problem. I had set out a special shelf this year marked with a sign reading GRATIS. The idea was place items free for the taking by any student, visitor, or teacher. This process began with good intentions, but as the work and activities grew, the environment withdrew into the background. Sometimes there were piles and stacks to navigate, but never did it stand in the way of our missions.

Something's gotta give, though. I will make it a priority to sift through all these items and keep only which contributes directly to the teaching of six Latin classes or the running of an active Latin Club. After all, having too much stuff can stand in the way of effective use of fewer, higher-quality items. It is time to sift, cull, trash, and give away things that are no longer making the cut. I have gather these items for 31 years. It is time to apply the notion that less is more.

Greener Grasses

I just returned home from a farewell dinner for two Latin colleagues leaving our school system at the end of the week. Each one is departing for pastures expected to have greener grass, albeit decidedly different flavors.

My first colleague will be leaving her high school program after fourteen years. She taught all levels of Latin, including Advanced Placement and International Baccalaureate, an occasional middle school class, and a fairly active Latin Club and certamen teams. She became department chair and the odd combination of classes and duties began to compound and overwhelm her. She has a husband and two young children. She has opted to leave these burdens behind and will replace them with what will surely be a two-hour commute each way. She will have a lighter teaching load and enjoy higher pay.

My second colleague will be leaving behind his middle school position after only three years of teaching, admittedly not even enough time to get really get his teaching chops established. He has wrangled middle-schoolers in Latin I, Latin IA, Latin IB, Latin II, and Introduction to World Languages. These combinations of classes, including the nature of these young students, has also worn on him. He will be leaving teaching behind for new and different opportunities. He looks forward to greater freedom, less grief, and more chances to explore and grow.

To lose a fourteen-year veteran is a real loss... loss of experience, continuity, and institutional memory; yet losing a three-year beginning is just as frustrating. The departure of new teachers is a very real problem and threatens our profession. Good Latin teacher are difficult to find in the first place, but then to lose them too soon compounds the problem. Each one has made his and her own decision, and I do not begrudge them their choices at all. Indeed, there may even be a little bit of envy.

As I mentioned in my last post, this has not been a good year for me. Besides missing four weeks of teaching due to medical leave and recovery this spring, as well as time out for conferences and the graduations of both my daughter from graduate school and son from college, there were some classes where my personality and that of my students did not match up well, and some students even rejected any enthusiastic attempt to learn and grow. I hope to pursue these dynamics in later posts. I am just about to complete my thirty-first year of teaching. At one point the notion of retirement surfaced and I rejected it because I could not stand the idea of leaving in a negative note, and indeed I had unfinished business. As the year began to wind down and the frustrations that come with formalized testing, certification, and administrative demands, I began to seriously consider retirement at the end of next year. Thirty-two years in any profession is respectable, is it not? I signed my electronic contract thinking that I might wrap things up on my own terms and leave at the end of the 2018-2019 school year. After all, my certification will be due, our curriculum is changing with a requisite alteration of teaching philosophy, and we are getting new textbooks. Sounds like a good time to depart, does it not? Then I made the fateful move... out of curiosity I checked the pay scale, just to see what my final paychecks would look like. I was floored! In only eight more years, my pay was scheduled to increase by more than $18,000! How tempting! How exciting! In order to keep seasoned, experienced teachers, the pay increases significantly up until it freezes at 40 years of service. This put the breaks on any thoughts of retirement for the moment, but I am a bit disappointed in myself because suddenly I am choosing to stay not just because I want to teach, but that I am reaching for the money.

My two colleagues and I have noticed the greener grasses growing in other pastures or even in our own field. Is it really greener though? Does it taste any different or nourish our bodies or souls any better? At the moment, only time will tell.

More about retirement later. 

All Things Considered

As exam week rolls into view, I find it necessary to take stock of this year which, I must admit, has not been a good one, either for me or for some of my students. I am returning to Marginalia as a means of reviewing, organizing, and analyzing what went right and what went wrong in my classroom and inside my head. I am being purposely vague at the moment; just laying out a general road map of personal discussion. Welcome back to me!

P.S. I will also be editing this blog: making updates, deleting nonsense, and adding commentary. I was surprised to find that I started this twelve years ago, and it has been dormant for much of that time. Perhaps it is time to erupt.

Erotion's Parents

The other day in Latin III, my students asked a question that made me realize something about Martial's poem V.34 about the death of Erotion. The parents of this very young slave are dead.

Hanc tibi, Fronto pater, genetrix Flaccilla, puellam

     oscula commendo deliciasque meas,

parvola ne nigras horrescat Erotion umbras

     oraque Tartarei prodigiosa canis.

Impletura fuit sextae modo frigora brumae,             5

     vixisset totidem ni minus illa dies.

Inter tam veteres ludat lasciva patronos

     et nomen blaeso garriat ore meum.

Mollia non rigidus caespes tegat ossa nec illi,

     terra, gravis fueris: non fuit illa tibi.                    10

In line 1, there has been mention of the chiasmus that exists in Fronto pater, genetrix Flacilla and how this reflection of word order suggests that the mother and father are facing each other, perhaps consoling each other in their grief. I generally like this suggestion and agree with it, even using this phrase as an excellent example of the poetic device and how it works. What is more interesting to me, though, is the placement of Hanc and puellam at the beginning and ending of the line, completely surrounding her huddled parents. To me this arrangement illustrates that Erotion exists in a world outside her parents. If her parents were alive, wouldn't "this girl" be more comfortable and loved by the placement between her father and mother?

When reading the poem, we do not learn by the persona, presumably Martial, that Erotion has died until the third line. He sets up the image of a sweet girl by mentioning her oscula and delicias until line 3, a jarring revelation when we realize that she, quite young (parvola) will be shuddering at the "dark shadows" which will be surrounding her, quite literally. Notice the arrangement of nigras...umbras physically around the shuddering girl (horrescat Erotion). The whole image is reinforced in line 4 with the realization that she will have to make her way past Cerberus (Tartarei...canis).

Therefore, if Martial is entrusting the care of Erotion to her parents (tibi...commendo, lines 1-2) before she her soul makes the journey to the Underworld, it only logically follows that Fronto and Flacilla are already there, waiting to receive her on the other side.

I think I overlooked this interesting point in the past because I was so eager to get to Martial's "gotcha" at the end of the poem and show my students the poet's poignant conclusion:

Mollia non rigidus caespes tegat ossa nec illi,

     terra, gravis fueris: non fuit illa tibi.                    10

"Do not let rough sod cover her gentle bones, earth, nor lie heavy upon her; she was not heavy upon you."

And away we go...

I have sat down this Saturday afternoon after our first five-day school week of the year. To put it succinctly, I am exhausted. It always takes a few days to get back into the routine of a busy, teaching schedule, but this year, things are piling up more quickly than in the past. Going into school early and staying late is seeming to do little to alleviate the burden and adds to feeling drained, but I press on. Is it a function of age? Maybe. Is it a function of fitness? Probably. It is a problem, though? No. I will spend most of my weekend wrapping up things from last week and getting things ready for the next.

From time to time I reflect upon what I am doing and decide that I like it, it all still makes sense, and I convince myself that I am still making a difference; I think I matter in my school. I assume that I matter in my professional community; but I know I still matter in my classroom. That space in which I spend eight, ten, or sometimes more hours of my day is still a fun and interesting place for me. My students seem to like the lessons, they learn and grow, and some even choose to come back for more fun and learning after school. So I continue.

This weekend I will spend a large portion of my time on the necessary academic matters: planning lessons, grading papers, and producing materials. I will also spend a good portion of my time on extra-curricular activities: an active Latin Club, with its activities, fund raisers, convention, and certamen teams. Reluctantly though, I find myself spending more and more of my time trying to meet the requirements of the school, district, and state administrations in trying to prove that I am an effective teacher and that my students are actually progressing. This proof comes in the form of specified assessments, now moving into the realm of common and shared tests and exams, the collection of data in each child in a variety of modes, and the creation of artifacts to illustrated quickly and easily to all who care to look the meaning of it all. This is what makes me tired. All else I do out of love and because I have to meet my own expectations.

Fratres Sororesque

Last night orientation for freshmen and other new students was held at my school. This is always a positive, warm and fuzzy evening where everyone meets and greets full of anticipation for new experiences. The new students are excited, and more than a little nervous, about coming to a new school, in this, the "big high school."

I was surprised at the number of siblings of current and former students I will be teaching this year. For a couple of families, I will be teaching three of their children, and in three of those classes I will have siblings in the same room! I can only imagine the conversations around the dinner table on some nights: "Mr. Keith, blah blah blah, and then he blah blah blahed! We all blah blah blahed and rolled our eyes!"

In my 26 year career, I have, of course, taught numerous siblings and, indeed, whole families. This past year marked the end of a family of five! A mom of a graduated senior from last year remarked last night, "And now you've got me for eight more years!" Her daughter was entering into Latin II and her youngest was waiting in the back of the room. Bring 'em on!

For those families where I teach multiple children, it becomes a source of confirmation that I must be doing something right if they continue to loan me their children for the school year and their entire high school careers.