Saxum Volvens: Keeping Up the Momentum

We return to school tomorrow after a five days away; before that we had only a two-day week. Needless to say, the students will not be their sharpest when they come into the classroom. What to do?

Keeping up momentum in the classroom is very important, if the teacher wishes to keep the students learning and the material flowing along. The best way to push that stone on which moss is beginning to grow is the catch their attention with something interesting and then ease into a review of the last subject covered. Then slip something new and tie the two together.

My plan? I found a couple interesting clips from YouTube/eClassics... we'll start there.

As a general rule, I do not give homework over breaks from school. I know from experience as a teacher and a parent that many other teachers don't feel this way and a five-day break from school is the perfect time to assign essays and reading and worksheets and... Guess what, most of it doesn't even make it out of the backpack until the evening before the big return. What kind of quality work does that promote? At that point, the notion of learning anything is gone and the need to complete the letter, but not the intent, of the assignments take center stage.

This time of year does create issues with momentum. Fall Break, i.e., Thanksgiving, is over and Winter Break, viz. Christmas and the Holidays, will soon be upon us. There will be many a distraction in the next three weeks, then a two-week break, then wintry weather, then exams, then wintry weather... I wonder if Sisyphus is looking for a replacement soon?

What's Going on in the Middle?

We came across this line in our AP Vergil class recently:

Quos inter medius venit furor (I.348)

and I finally took the time to really notice what is going on in this sentence. I had always assumed that Quos inter was an example of anastrophe until I realized that inter medius venit could be a good example for tmesis and Quos was simply being used as a connective relative pronoun. At first I thought Vergil was being clever by placing medius in the middle until I moved further back and realized that inter medius venit furor would make a nice synchesis (of sorts), a figure of speech used often in the Aeneid.

My thoughts were not confirmed, though, when I conducted a search on Google for this sentence. There was no discussion (I could find) on anastrophe or such. Indeed, my thoughts were clouded when I realized that other texts read medios instead of medius. Suddenly that emendation makes this line less worthy of comment.

Missing the Mark

The first marking period has now come and gone. Report cards have been distributed, and students' abilities, interests, and efforts are now coming into focus for many parents. For those students who are new to high school, the sorting now begins.

I have some of the best averages ever for students in Latin I and Latin II. Their scores are solid and the results of their preparation is obvious. I even have one student whose work is practically impeccable. I didn't realize it until today, but she has scored a 100 (or better) on every single assignment. Wow! She makes me proud.

What is disturbing, though, are those students who receive a printout of their grades and they are surprised or upset that their averages are so low. When questioned as to why they received a 21 on the test or a 45 on the quiz, they readily admit that they did not study. More than once. Often. They don't write down their assignments. They don't take their books home. They don't study for their quizzes. They don't prepare their translations. Why, then, do they think that they should receive a higher grade? In what class are they receiving good grades for next to no effort?

After every marking period, I announce to my students, "If you're happy with your grade, keep on doing what you're doing. If you're not happy with your grade, you need to make some adjustments." Sometimes there are adjustments, and sometimes they continue to be shocked.

Aeneas Meets a Girl in the Woods

Aeneas and his surviving crew are shipwrecked somewhere in northern Africa. He and his right-hand man Achates set off to take a look around and see if they can find civilization or any other survivors. While stomping off through the woods, Aeneas comes across his mama in disguise.

Cui mater media sese tulit obvia silva
virginis os habitumque gerens, et virginis arma
Spartanae, vel qualis equos Threissa fatigat
Harpalyce, volucremque fuga praevertitur Hebrum.
Namque umeris de more habilem suspenderat arcum
venatrix, dederatque comam diffundere ventis,
nuda genu, nodoque sinus collecta fluentes.
I.314-320

Not knowing who this babe-in-the-woods is, Aeneas responds to her greeting,

"Nulla tuarum audita mihi neque visa sororum --
O quam te memorem, virgo? Namque haud tibi vultus
mortalis, nec vox hominem sonat: O, dea certe --
an Phoebi soror? An nympharum sanguinis una?"
I.326-330

One of the first reactions of my students concerning this exchange is that Aeneas has some pretty lame pick-up lines! Their feelings are that Mother Venus has been described in some fairly alluring terms and that Aeneas is trying (unwittingly) to hit on his mother!

Is this Vergil's intention? Hmm... let's take a look. He describes Venus incognita as virginis os habitumque gerens (l. 315). He intends her to be a maiden and reinforces this notion later when Aeneas repeats the word in line 328. The focus is on her mouth (os, line 315) as a primary description by synecdoche. He continues a physical description with her shoulder (umeris, line 318), her hair blowing in the wind (comam diffundere ventis, line 318), and (gasp!) her leg exposed all the way up to the knee (nuda genu, line 320). Why would Vergil give such emphasis to her physical description, if he didn't wanted to paint this image of an attractive maiden bounding through the woods? She is Venus, after all, and deserves a description such as this. If we read this description as an intentional effort at allurement, this makes Aeneas words all the more provocative. He starts off by asking her with a plea (O, line 328) how he is to remember this encounter (quam te memorem, line 328), and he caps it off with the vocative virgo (line 328). Aeneas obviously is not aware that this is his mother, but he makes the assumption that she, based on her looks, is a maiden, not a puella, not a femina, not a mulier nor matrona. He then comments on her heavenly face (haud tibi vultus/ mortalis, lines 328-329) and her divine voice (nec vox hominem sonat, line 329). Again, why the emphasis on the physical? Finally, the weak pick-up line, O, dea certe (line 329). At least that's what my students think!

Translating Cicero in Word Order

I have encouraged my students this year to read and translate their Latin passages in the order in which they appear, left to right. We have endured the "Yoda-speak" and seem to be making progress. After we translate in the word order, we do, of course, go back and "English it up."

In his First Oration Against Catiline, Cicero writes in chapter 11:

Tune eum quem esse hostem comperisti, quem ducem belli futurum vides, quem expectari imperatorem in castris hostium sentis, auctorem sceleris, principem coniurationis, evocatorem servorum et civium perditorum, exire patiere, ut abs te non emissus ex urbe, sed immisus in urbem esse videatur?

When we approach this from the beginning and move from left to write, we end up saying, with appropriate inflection of our voice in English,

"Do you [something] him whom you have discovered to be an enemy, whom you[etc.], whom you [etc.], whom you know to be an author of crime, a chief of conspiracy, an inciter of slaves and of evil citizens, to leave you will allow..."

The advantages of this technique allows the student to know immediately that the speaker of the passage (in this case, the personified Republic) is asking a question of Cicero about Catiline (Tune eum). Then there are three full relative clauses and then three more relative clauses abbreviated by ellipsis, and then an infinitive and (finally!) the main verb. If a student were to hunt and peck through this sentence, she would be hopelessly lost. Indeed, after the first reading in Latin, the relative clauses would be easily identified and mentally bracketed, then leading to a easier discovery of exire patiere to complete the main sentence. The students do need, of course, a prompt that patiere is really a patieris. The student then passes to the rest of the sentence, a subordinate clause, happliy marked by the ut.

Vigilium

All Hallow's Eve has come and gone, and here I sit in the early morning. The time will fall back soon, so I will get an extra hour of sleep in there anyway. I have my playlist from iTunes running in the background (the latest album from Steve Perry) and I have been searching the various blogs related to classics, teaching, and other such things. I then remembered I had a blog...

My last post heralded my decision to teach Cicero's First Oration Against Catiline this year and I do not regret the decision. Reading, translating, and understanding Cicero requires much from a Latin student, and he has certainly provided that. Most students have responded well, and we are slogging our way through. I have had to jump through portions of the text, though, in order to keep it interesting and moving along. I have plans to stick with my tribute to Latin prose and teach some letters from Pliny the Younger next. He's always fun.

The class reading Cicero is moving quite slowly, though, because it is combined with AP Vergil... yeah, that's right, I'm teaching Cicero and Vergil in the same classroom at (roughly) the same time. Things are working fairly well, but this is, by no means, the best way to do things. My Vergil students are moving slowly, too, but the other alternative was for me to not teach them at all.

The way my class works is that it meets on the block during which the lunch shifts operate. I give my full attention to my Cicero students for the first half-hour while my Vergil students eat lunch. During the next hour both sets of students work on reviewing particular points of Latin grammar or syntax, sight translating, or similar cooperative work. When the Cicero students go to lunch, I teach the Vergil students for half an hour. Yeah, that means I don't eat lunch, but that is survivable.

My frustration is increasing lately because I am realizing that I cannot teach what I want to teach in the way I want to teach it because of my workload. I have five preparations spread through six classes which meet every other day. I am barely keeping my head above water and, occasionally, I do go under and claw my way back to the surface gasping and sputtering. I've always called this my grand juggling act -- I can almost keep all the balls in the air but don't expect me to do anything fancy with them. Sometimes I drop the some of the balls, but I pick them up and keep tossing.

Vetus Novus Homo

"Quo usque tandem abutere, Catilina, patientia nostra?" It has been quite some time since these words have been heard aloud in my classroom. I have to admit that I have not taught Cicero since way back in the mid-90's. When the Advanced Placement bandwagon ran roughshod over our school system's curriculum over a decade ago, the emphasis in Latin turned away from the authors of Latin prose and grounded itself solidly in poetry. Since that time we have usually finished the Latin II textbook in the first quarter or half of Latin III and then spent the balance of time in making the transition to the reading and translation of authentic Latin literature. Sure, prose authers were a big part of that, namely selections from St. Jerome's Vulgate, some letters of Pliny the Younger, and some war correspondence from Caesar, but there was never room or a time for the rhetoric and philosophy of Cicero. I reluctantly pushed him aside as Latin IV and V alternated between the epic poetry of Vergil and the lyric and elegiac poetry of Catullus and Ovid. Now, times have changed.

I have brushed off Jenney's Third Year Latin, dug through my filing cabinet, and reacquainted myself with this long-neglected prose author. I have always been an advocate of Latin prose and a fan of Cicero and look forward to his reappearance in my classroom. His return has been made possible by the College Board's elimination of the AP Latin Literature examination. The Latin teachers in my system have agreed to teach AP Vergil in the fifth-year Latin class, thus opening up (for me, at least) a class of fourth-year Latin students who now have the opportunity to read and translate a wide variety of Latin authors and works. I know by experience that Cicero will be difficult for many of my students and that the subject matter can be a bit challenging, as well. We'll take it slow and I will make every effort to make the class interesting and meaningful. Updates in our endeavors will follow.

The True Story of Troy, Really!

I watched The True Story of Troy (The History Channel, 2007) on the History International Channel last night. I try to watch as many documentaries on the ancient world as I can. I was, of course, attracted to the presentation by the mention of Troy and the Trojan War, but was immediately alarmed by the title claiming it to be the true story, as if all others were not so true. Indeed, I found very little in the two-hour production to be original or new; what was interesting was the segment on the underwater archaeology and some background information on the site of Hissarlik and the major players, particularly Heinrich Schliemann and Carl Blegen. I also found amusing the narrator's claim that archaeologists have located what they believe to be the "true site" of Troy in a tone which would lead the viewer to believe that it was discovered last Tuesday. Nothing new there, either. The film footage took us back to that familiar arrangement of stones on top of that hill overlooking that plain which we have all seen before.

I have seen several documentaries on the Trojan War, including Michael Wood's epic In Search of the Trojan War, and there were elements from these presentations throughout this "True Story". One of Michael Wood's episodes involved locating and interviewing modern-day bards and I enjoyed this presentation's segment on the bards in Serbia who can still chant an Iliad-long tale on the Battle of Kosovo back in the 14th century. I wasn't quite sure how the producers were checking their facts when the claim was made these bards were telling the unembellished truth about the historical Battle of Kosovo and that these modern singers-of-heroic-deeds prove that Homer did tell/could have told the truth as well. Big leap there!

The literary story of the war, mostly from Homer, but from other sources as well, was well done and the artwork, most of it applicable, was a treat. Much emphasis was given to the sacrifice of Iphigenia and unfaithful Clytemnestra who avenged the death of her daughter by murdering her husband Agamemenon when he returned home. There was also the brief discussion of human sacrifice among the Greeks, but that it wasn't really human sacrifice because slaves and prisoners of war were not human. Hmm...

I was pleased to watch the attention given to the Trojan Horse and the story told by Vergil. All too often this part of the tale gets short-changed (I guess) because this Roman poet wrote as many years, if not more, after Homer as Homer did after the actual events of the conflict, and he stole the story from the Bard and other Greeks anyway. Satisfying was the mention of Aeneas leading his followers of refugees to Italy and the angle that the Trojans were the ancestors of the Romans. I found interesting the whole segment (again, not new) that the conflict was a clash of East vs. West, that Xerxes visited the site of Troy before storming into Greece as if to seek revenge, that Alexander the Great visited the site before setting off to conquer the Persians as if to bring Greek vengeance against the Persians (and the curious story of Alexander taking Trojan armor [Achilles'?] from some ancient museum and wearing it on his campaign, and finally that the Trojans were reincarnated into Romans who finally conquered and absorbed that Greek and took possession of Asia Minor, all as the story of the Trojan War coming full circle.

I am always drawn to the explanations given for the Trojan Horse. This "True Story" rationalized this gift of the Greeks (with an aside to tell the tale of Laocoon and his sons) as a siege engine. They claimed that the Hittites and others has this technology and that this was nothing new. No mention was made that the Horse was a metaphor for an earthquake, although earthquakes were mentioned soon after. They missed an opportunity there.

What was most intriguing, and a bit academically uncomfortable, to me was the discussion of Homer. I have never dug deep into Homer's origins and was surprised to learn that he was "thought to have been born" in Smyrna or Chios. They played up the angle that he was born near Troy so that helps to make his story more believable. That's another thin thread there. Mention was made of Homer's blindness and illiteracy, but none of how he actually learned the stories. He was at one point in the documentary called a rock star, filling ancient theaters and stadia (exaggeration my own - I wish I could remember the exact reference). What I repeatedly found disturbing about the discussion of Homer was the notion that the Greek alphabet was invented (borrowed and modified from the Phoenicians), and thus Greek writing itself was invented, for the sole purpose of recording Homer's stories. I don't buy it and I don't believe that the documentary made its case at all on this claim.

I also found fascinating the stories about Carl Blegen and Heinrich Schliemann. It seems that ex-patriate Blegen was actually the first archaeologist and had been digging in and around Troy for years before Schliemann arrives on the scene. Blegen had quite a few objects and artifacts to show Schliemann when he comes in search of his boyhood dreams. I was a bit surprised to hear that Schliemann, always the sensational showman, "stole" the hill of Hissarlik from Blegen and claimed to have found Troy when Blegen had already decided it was there. More interesting, and a little disturbing, was Schliemann's background. He was always, uncannily, present and lucky for the discovery of gold and amassing of wealth. He speculated on and benefited from (and participated in?) the Gold Rush in California, he was present at, worked for, and increased his wealth with the Czars in St. Petersburg, and then (strangely), there was some story that Schliemann dressed as a Bedouin, circumcised himself (!?!), and snuck into someplace in the Middle East. These are tantalizing elements for the True Story of Troy.

So, was the story of the Trojan War true? This documentary certainly does not prove the story true. There was certainly not enough new evidence presented to make its case. I would argue that the truth of the story (interesting, to be sure, and admittedly fascinating to me) is not important. When the epics are read and enjoyed, when those thoughts and images and messages from the past are relayed, scientific and historical truth is not needed or even required. Are other works of ancient literature true? How much of the Aeneid can we really believe? How much do we want to believe? Why can't we accept that Homer is just telling a good story? Modern day epics which immediately come to mind are Star Wars and the Harry Potter series. Few will argue that these are not compelling, well-written, and important stories meaningful and entertaining to the modern world. Centuries from now, though, will archaeologists and historians set out to find the true location of Hogwarts Castle or argue over which sandy planet is actually Tatooine? I hope not, because it really doesn't matter in the light of the stories themselves.

Sometimes finding the truth hurts. The "True Story" mentioned a couple times that Schliemann was disappointed in the size of the site of Troy. He kept digging deeper and deeper into the hill so that he could find what he wanted to find, all the while not paying attention that what he was casting aside as rubbish was what he was looking for all the while. What if Schliemann's excavations had, in fact, discovered that the site of Hissarlik was indeed Troy and that bodies and tombs clearly labeled as the key players in the conflict were discovered? What if he had discovered a written narrative, say, a diary, that revealed that a Trojan War actually occurred but not as Homer imagined it? Would it be immensely disappointing to learn that the real Troy was a wide spot in the road, a man named Priam was chieftain over an extended family of horse-breeders, and when one of his sons, while traveling in Greece, had insulted a Greek mafia boss, almost a dozen ships were launched and these two families feuded for a while.

Not knowing the truth about the characters and deeds or the Trojan War, or the true location of the Troy, does not decrease the value of the story, nor would finding them legitimize it. These pursuits of science would strip away the fantasy, the romance, and the other elements which make a story so appealing, even after two thousand years.

Getting Down to Business

I read an article in the local paper this morning about how small businesses must cater to their clients in order to establish working relationships. Big business pretty much works on the cookie-cutter model, but small businesses can tailor their services to the individual client. A teacher must function in the same way. In order to have a truly successful program, the teacher must establish, cultivate, and maintain relationships with both the students and the parents.

One of my goals this year is to be more aware of the need to establish and work with relationships with what the "teaching industry" calls "the stakeholders." I'll try.

Teaching Caesar

It has been said that Julius Caesar is the most famous Roman of them all. Everyone has heard about Caesar and something of his exploits (right or wrong) in Rome. Many cite their exposure to be the tragedy by Shakespeare... who, I must remind them, wrote literature, not history.

I, like a good number of other teachers, was quite surprised (and even a bit disappointed) when the College Board announced that Caesar would be paired with Vergil on their upcoming capstone AP Latin exam. My first thoughts were, "Ooh, how boring!" and "What does Caesar have to do with Vergil? How disjointed can that be?" I am waiting for the CB's announcement of what work(s) and sections from Caesar will be required before I make any final decision on how I feel about this unlikely combination.

In an effort to cozy up to the idea, I pulled out Caesar's De Bello Civile the other evening, opened the text at random, and started reading. Hoping that things would be diffent than his De Bello Gallico, I was sorely mistaken. Most of what I read was about troop movements, crossing rivers, obtaining supplies (and depriving Pompey of them), and worrying about where his transport ships were. Um, not exactly stuff to interest the typical teenager in the typical public high school!

Here's hoping that the College Board will announce an interesting syllabus combining Caesar and Vergil in some sort of meaningful and natural way... and NOT taking the direction of the art of war in the second half of the Aeneid and in Caesar's illustrious career!

An Old-Growth Forest of Columns

This is what happens
when you don't prune back columns as they grow.

I took this photograph in Paestum in July 2005.

Declining in Greek

We have put AP Latin Literature to bed -- hopefully for not too long a nap. The College Board will issue their proclamation soon about what road we will all be taking in a couple years.

The class is not over yet, though. We are playing in Greek: learning to read and write the alphabet, working with some prefixes, roots, and suffixes, learning some vocabulary, and (today) we learned how to decline a noun. Our goal is to read and translate the first story or so in Athenaze.

So, I write on the board ho anthropos mikros (transliterated into the English alphabet here). My students made me proud several times today. Right off the bat they recognized that Greek had an article.

Another student quickly asked, "Does the -os ending have anything to do with the -us ending in Latin?" I beamed.

When I demonstrated the declension, they were fascinated that Greek did not have an ablative case. I explained that the Greek genitive and dative took up the slack. Another student commented, "Good! I never liked the ablative anyway." (Boooo.....!)

After the declension (and a little prodding from me), they recognized that the omega in the dative singular was analogous to the -o in Latin and that the -oi (nominative plural), -ois (dative plural), and -ous (accusative plural) were not too far removed from the Latin. It is interesting to note that they don't think the -on and -um are close cousins.

I love my students and I love when we are learning for the sake of learning!

The Tatters of the Year

It is Memorial Day and tomorrow we will enter what I have come to call the tatters of the year. The AP and state exams are over. The weather is warm. The finish line is in sight. I try to tell my students that, even though you can see the end of the course, the race is not yet finished. Too many, though, have set their goal well short of that chalk line ahead.

Even though there are still three weeks left in the school year (time enough to learn some new things!) instruction is effectively over. The seniors, who will graduate a week before the end of school and (most of whom) are grade-exempt from final exams, have already stopped coming to school. This has a profound impact on the motication of the rest of the student body who also want to check out early. There are also fieldtrips, assemblies, and other activities to distract them from their studies. Oh yeah, there are still second semester exams to be given...

OK, what to do?

In the words of the Borg (from Star Trek: The Next Generation), "Resistance is futile. You will be assimilated." I have learned that I can beat my head against the wall and drag the students kicking and screaming (or, worse, chatting or snoring) through a lesson on the ablative absolute or I can change things up and work toward application of the material learned in an earlier, more focused period of their education.

In AP Latin, we dutifully said our farewells to the Latin Literature syllabus and didn't look back. We are now learning the Greek alphabet and will try to cover the first chapter or two of Athenaze. I am surprised at how excited the students are to start something brand new. They tell me that it is like going all the way back to starting Latin I, when everything was fresh, new, and exciting. Ah, but our time in Greek will be too short... just a taste for now and encouragement to take it in college.

In my other classes we are moving toward reading and translating. To teach the uses of the subjunctive mood at this point would be a Herculean effort which would quickly turn, I fear, into a Sisyphean labor. These new things are best left for the next school year. Why not take everything we have done this year and apply it to readings and translations in their textbooks and a few outside items I bring in? We can polish these skills and reinforce the material taught this year as an effort of moving toward their finals. Application is to be stressed over acquisition.

It's a plan.

Pegasus in the Wild

Imagine my surprise as I was driving along Route 1 in Ashland and we spied this Pegasus on the side of road! Makes me feel sort of like Bellerophon!

Calling a Spade a Spade

I was listening the other day to a colleague who teaches Spanish. She was talking about the difference between -ar verbs and -er verbs. She mentioned the yo form. Without ever taking Spanish, I knew exactly what she meant, particularly since I had an idea of the origins of these Spanish elements.

I have often thought that I could change the names of the categories of Latin verbs and nouns in order to make the idea of what I'm trying to say clearer for my students. After all, the names are, for the most part, descriptive and help to identify the category or use of the form. When I say something like, "That's an ablative of accompaniment," the students (should) think, "Oh yeah, that noun is the last in that declension thingy and it is being used to show who they're doing the verb with." When I tell my students that the Romans had no idea of what the phrase "ablative of accompaniment" meant, they pause for a moment and demand to know why. I tell them that this is a phrase we, who are not native speakers, have created in order to describe the use of that noun. I also tell them that if they asked the average Latin speaker on the street to decline a noun, he would look at you puzzled and probably run away. At once the students are amazed and confused. I ask them to decline a noun in English. Again they sratch their heads and shrug. I usually give them an example, the best being the declension in English of the pronoun "he" -- I say, "He, his, him, they, their, them." I mention things like subjective, possessive, and objective case. Some of the sharper students eagerly write down this valuable nugget in their notes, others just wave me off and think that I'm crazy. They never learned this in English... why in the world would I be bringing it up in Latin class?

Anyway, I'm drifting off my topic - the names of things. What if, at the beginning of Latin I, when the students are most excited about learning a new language and most impressionable, I called first conjugation verbs "-are verbs"? What if I called third conjugation verbs "short -ere verbs"? The description would go right to the crucial element which determines the conjugation of a verb and, hopefully, this would better enable the student to conjugate it. They might think, "That's an -are verb, I have to keep that -a- in there when I conjugate it." or "Yuck, a short -ere verb... I think something happens to that short e." What does second conjugation really mean to the student other than it is usually taught after the first conjugation?

Taking this idea further, why not change the nomenclature for nouns? Why not have an "-ae declension" or an "-is declension" noun? This name would call attention directly to the genitive singular form. Then the student, looking at puella, puellae would (hopefully) think, "Oh yeah. I need to use those -a, -ae, -ae endings."

Taking this strange idea a step further, why not teach the conjugations and declensions in a different order? With the restraints of "first declension" and "second conjugation" removed, there would be little confusion in reordering the traditional grammar. Having said that, I would probably limit myself to rearranging the introduction of the nouns; I think everyone would agree that teaching the -are and long -ere verbs is easier than teaching those short -ere verbs with all those changes. Declensions are declensions and each requires a different set of endings which must be committed to memory. What Latin teacher hasn't lamented that the students have first and second declensions down cold but they just can't master that pesky third declension? I can't back this up with solid data at the moment, but there are more third declension nouns in the Latin language than any other declension, so why not teach the -is nouns first? Imagine the possibilities of a wider choice of vocabulary words at the beginning of the course. What reinforces the success of understanding -is nouns is what psychologists call the primacy effect -- what is learned first is remembered better than what is learned in the middle.

Before the purists attack me for messing up the natural order of things, I readily admit that I will have to teach my students the tradional nomenclature because all their resources, their textbooks, online help, parents and friends who already know Latin, other teachers, will call an -ire verb "fourth conjugation" and I would not want my students to be confused or lost. I would use my terminology at the beginning and then introduce them to the other names not much later in the course.

This, ladies and gentlemen, esteemed colleagues, will be my experiment for the coming school year. It may be a benefit, it may be insignificant, or it may fail... In any case, the world won't be lost.

Hannibal is not yet at the gates...

but there are reports of elephants in the Alps.

Disturbing news arrived from the county administration office today. In anticipation of a very tight budget for the 2009-2010 school year, the topic of class size has been discussed. The report suggests that, unless a class has a minimum of 20 students, the class will not make. The report specifically mentioned that even a combination of level IV and AP classes in world languages may not reach the magic number of 20. The alternative seems to be Adventa and VirtualVirginia. In other words, students will be offered the opportunity to take advanced level classes online or sign up for something else.

This unofficial announcement leaves me a bit stunned and numb. I feel like I've been kicked in the stomach. Am I to teach at three different schools next year? Will I have a combo III/IV/AP in the same room?

It is (hopefully) too early to speculate and give in to a suggested threat. I'll wait a little more before I panic but, just in case, I will read up on how to survive elephants on the battlefield.

Stacking the Tabellae, Sorting the Papyri

I have begun a project of which Psyche would have been proud. I am storing all of my notes, handouts, quizzes, tests, and other school-pertinent information electronically... AND (here's the amazing part) I am eliminating all the hard-copies. I have discovered that I use my electronic files much more often than opening the drawers of my filing cabinets. That's right, cabinets with an "s" -- one at home and one at school, both filled to overflowing and, often, difficult to search. Now I can already read your minds and can hear your warnings:

I) Make sure you have a back-up!

Yup. Got that. I keep my files on my trusty Dell and have a back-up of my files on an external harddrive. That's the storage part. The functional part is that I have my files on a flashdrive and keep a back-up disk at school in case the flashdrive fails... and, believe me, Murphy should have written a law about flashdrives!

II) Don't get rid of all that paper! Think of the trees who gave their lives so that your students could learn Latin!

Yup, yup. Considered that too. I am going through the folders and distributing extra copies I put into storage last year thinking I might use them this year. As the folder empties, I toss it into the garbage.

III) But what about the stuff created before desktop computers roamed the earth?

Yup, yup, yup. Got a plan for that as well. The true oldy-but-goody stuff from the pre-electronic age gets scanned into the computer OR I look for or make a new version. For stuff that isn't easily scanned to recreated... well, some files will have to remain.

I'm not fooling myself and believing that I will accomplish this Herculean labor this year or even next year; it will be most definitely an ongoing process.

Grabbing at Toss-Ups

We returned today from a very poor showing at the Classical Cottage Certamen. For the first time since I transfered to Riverbend, no teams placed in and brought home a trophy from a Latin tournament. I'm not yet ready to declare our teams dead but the interest, particulary at this time year, is beginning to wane. This should come as little surprise. Once the weather begins to warm and the trees begin to bud, students' thoughts begin to turn to other matters... as it should be.

The Classical Cottage Certamen was good but quite small. The flagging interest does not seem to be a factor just at RHS. It was a shame, though, because Susan Schearer does an outstanding job at organizing and running a tournament. It is always a pleasure to attend any competition sponsored by this woman. Thank you, Susan!

We have one tournament left in the year... the "state championship" sponsored by the Virginia Senior Classical League and/or the Virginia Junior Classical League. I have always been confused as to who was actually in charge but the events always seem to work and champions crowned. Participation by RHS may be off for this tournament as well, seeing that it falls on the last Saturday of our Spring break. We shall see...

Tolkien and the Power of Language

There is an excellent piece in today's (1/3/09) The Writer's Almanac about J.R.R. Tolkien and the power of language. The best quote from Tolkien comes at the end of the article, "I wish life was not so short. Languages take such a time, and so do all the things one wants to know about."

Into the Field!

I took some of my students on a real fieldtrip to the National Gallery of Art. We took a day over Winter Break, boarded the Virginia Railway Express (local commuter rail), and made our journey into Washington, DC to take a look at their exhibition titled "Pompeii and the Roman Villa: Art and Culture around the Bay of Naples". This exhibit was quite good and featured several quality items we had seen only in books or other sources. Favorites included the busts of Julius Caesar, Augustus, Caligula, and Nero, and there was also an awesome, ornate gladiator's helmet. My students and I heartily recommend it if you find yourself in DC between now and March. Afterwards, the exhibition will travel to Los Angeles for you guys on the West Coast. A must-see for all Latin students!

Comparative Studies, or is that Comparative Studying?

While grading Latin I tests yesterday, I came across some interesting notes a student had scribbled in the margin of her paper. In the section for conjugating verbs, she had written out her personal endings -o, -s, -t, etc., and then she had written out the equivalent in German! While she's just a beginning Latin student, I believe she is also taking German II or III. By the way, she did quite well on the test, earning a 97%. Needless to say, her conjugations were impeccable!

Temple of Aphaia

Time for another posting a picture for the heck of it. This is the Temple of Aphaia on the Greek island of Aphaia in the Saronic Gulf. I took this photograph in July 2004.

Tombstones as Toilets

In Latin II class today we were reading the werewolf story in Chapter 33 of Ecce Romani II. The students thought it odd that the slave and the soldier were walking down the road and then suddenly the slave would have to wait while the soldier went off into the tombstones. I told them to think about it for a moment but not say anything. Lightbulbs went off over a couple of students' heads and the others looked perplexed. I then explained that tombstones would provide some privacy for those needing to relieve themselves. A couple students, not open-minded enough that urinating or defecating anywhere but in a toilet was even in the realm of possibility, didn't believe me. Unfortunately, I was unable to provide evidence. Doing a quick search after class didn't support me either. Certainly I remember requests or curses on tombstones in the ballpark of "Don't pee on me." I'm not making this up, am I?

Amore, More, Ore, Re

While looking online recently for a good Latin quote on love, I found

amore, more, ore, re

I stopped. I reread the quote. I thought this was the most ingenious thing I had ever found! The quote was attributed to Vergil (actually it said "Virgilius") and I assumed that this was something very few people knew. Boy, was I wrong! When I googled the phrase, I discovered that lots of people already knew this phrase, called it their favorite Latin quote, used it on their blogs, and even had it tatooed on their wrists! Thirty years ago this fall I stepped into a Latin classroom for the very first time. Since that time I have been learning, studying, translating, reading, and teaching the language and literature and never came across this clever item. I felt like I had missed out on something!

Next I started to search for the source. Several people attributed this ditty to Vergil but it didn't seem very Vergilian. It doesn't sound like something Vergil would say and the meter doesn't work. Nevertheless, I began a search on the internet and had very little success. At one point I was directed toward the story of Nisus and Euryalus in the Aeneid and thought that I was making progress, but skimming the lines in the text produced nothing. I remembered that I had A Vergil Concordance and pulled that out, but soon found nothing there as well. I was beginning to have my doubts that this quote was classical at all.

I did find that the entire quote was

Verus amicus amore, more, ore, re cognoscitur

but again there was no citation... so I posted the request on LatinTeach and received a wealth of information. I should have started there!

*Robert Maier found

Amore, more, ore, re, Iunguntur amicitiae!

and suggested that it was medieval. He was among the first to mention that it didn't fit a meter.

*Dennis McHenry II found

Ob id ergo maximas agimus gratias vestrae amori et labore verus enim amicus cognoscitur labore, amore, more, ore, re.

and cited the closing of a letter by the Dutch cartographer Nicolaas Witsen (1641-1717).

*Laura Gibbs revealed: "About the widely used and re-used amore more ore re, you are not likely to find a specific literary source (i.e. in the sense of who said it "first"), and that kind of word play is not the sort of thing you would expect from Vergil or a classical Roman writer. It is much more typical of later Latin - and it shows up in the work of the Jesuit author and scholar Athanasius Kircher (1602-1680) in an even more elaborate form, with clamore added in as a first term in the series: Tibi vero gratias agam quo clamore? Amore more ore re.

For the friend version - verus amicus noscitur ex amore more ore re (and also: amore, more, ore re iunguntur amicitiae), see #1436 in this marvelous collection: Philosophia patrum versibus praesertim leoninis, rhythmis Germanicis adiectis, iuventuti studiosae hilariter tradita by Julius Wegeler (1869).

It's online at Google Books - and it is a treasure trove of fun stuff (hilariter tradita indeed!). You can download the PDF of the book, or read it online - just click the "read this book" tab. http://books.google.com/books?id=iGcCAAAAQAAJ.

There are all kinds of delightful word play represented here. I especially like all the rhyming verses. Here are just a few:
- Dum canis os rodit, socium - quem diligit - odit.
- Res satis est nota, foetent plus stercora mota.
- Non de ponte cadit, quocum sapientia vadit.
- Vultus fortunae mutatur imagine lunae: Crescit, decrescit, in eodem sistere nescit.
etc.
It's a shame the ancient Romans did not go in for rhyme!"

I thoroughly enjoyed my little foray into finding "who dunnit". The bottom line? The quote isn't classical but much later. It's still ingenious, and my students love it! I noticed a couple have already written it on the cover of their notebooks or textbooks where they record and preserve those lyrics from a special song or meaningful comments or notes from friends. The phrase lives on!

Figures of Speech: Why Save Them for Upper Level?

I have gotten into the habit of introducing figures of speech to my Latin I and II students when we come across them. In Ecce Romani I, "Getting Up Early" in Chapter 8 includes Aurelia clamating:

"Agite, molesti servi!" inquit. "Cur nihil facitis? Cur vos ibi sedetis? Cur non strenue laboratis" (ll. 3-4).

This is as good a time as any to introduce anaphora, tricolon, and even tricolon crescens.

Early in Ecce Romani II, the servi in Chapter 32

"in Forum missi sunt et ibi comparaverunt holera, panem, pullos." (l. 3)

Asyndeton, anyone?

I don't dwell on these items nor do I test them in the lower levels, but it certainly makes the job a bit easier a couple years down the line when the whole list of devices appears for memorization and application.

An Eye in the Sky

The first thing we visited on my very first trip to Rome as a student in 1982 was the Pantheon. This magnificent building remains my favorite site in the City. My daughter took this photograph on her first trip there in 2007. Notice the yellow balloon caught in the coffer behind the beam of light.

It's A Pizza

The harpy Celaeno, offended by the Trojans for the slaughter of her cattle, prophesies to Aeneas,

"ibitis Italiam portusque intrare licebit.
sed non ante datam cingetis moenibus urbem
quam vos dira fames nostraeque iniuria caedis
ambesas subigat malis absumere mensas."
(Vergil, Aeneid III.254-257)

Which I translate to mean,

"you will go to Italy and you may enter the harbors, but you will not surround
with walls your given city before harsh hunger and the wrong of our
slaughter forces you to eat your tables consumed by your jaws."

Interestingly, mAla means "cheek-bone, jaw-bone; jaw, cheek." That's not one of those Latin words you come across too often.

Anyhow, what the soon-to-be residents of Latium are doing is eating pizza! The "table" is, of course, the place where the food rests. I remember from my Medieval Romance class in college the professor discussing how sailors and others would bake thin round loaves of bread which would become very hard and, thus, preservable (hardtack? crackers?). When mealtime came, the hard bread could serve as a plate and all the other food (vegetables, meats, cheeses) was piled upon it with the expectation that juices from these toppings would soak into bread, flavoring and softening it for consumption at the end. If one was particularly hungry, why couldn't he eat the "table" and all at the same time?

Of course, the Latins did not have tomatoes or tomato sauce...

How Old Is Your Mother?

I have read several articles over the past few days concerning the claim that the bronze statue of the Capitoline Wolf, that iconic image from ancient Rome, is not as old as previously thought. The Lupa Capitolina has long been revered as the image of the she-wolf who found and nutured the babies Romulus and Remus after they had been cast into the Tiber River. Romulus would, of course, go on to found the City of Rome.

Anna Maria Carruba, a member of the team that restored the statue a decade ago, claims that carbon-dating methods show that the statue was cast in the 8th century A.D., not around 500 B.C. as commonly believed. I have also read that the statue could be as late as the 13th century! History of the piece reveals that Pope Sixtus IV donated the statue to the Capitoline Museums in 1471 and that the twin babies were added during the 1500s. More information is needed to find out when and how the statue was "discovered" and where it was kept before the Pope gave it away.

Another argument which casts doubt on the ancient date of the statue is that the restorers discovered that it was cast as one piece, not separate units joined together after casting. Most, if not all, of the bronze statues created by the Etruscans in the time period in which the she-wolf was thought to be created, were made and assembled piecemeal. To have the statue cast as one unit would represent technology unavailable until the medieval period.

These articles also bring to mind another claimed revision to art history in that the magnificent statue of the death of Laocoon and his sons, a piece housed in the Vatican Museum, is not ancient but a fabrication, complete with burial and a staged discovery in the ruins of the Domus Aurea of Nero, of the Renaissance master Michelangelo.

I am intrigued by the claims concerning both statues, but I remain unconvinced. I'm not being close-minded, I just need more information.

Regardless of whether the Capitoline Wolf is ancient or medieval, it still remains as a symbol of Rome and is no less dear to me, nor should it be for others, for its supposed new-found youth.

ACL 2008

The 61st Annual Institute of the American Classical League has come and gone and I sit to write about it from the other side of a short family vacation to Long Island. The University of New Hampshire in Durham played an outstanding host and Sherwin Little, Tom Sienkewicz, Geri Dutra, and all others involved in the planning and execution of this outstanding gathering are to be commended.

I took the slow and liesurely route and drove to the Institute from Virginia. I set out on Tuesday morning and reached my goal of getting past most of the New York metropolitan area about mid-afternoon. In all, not a difficult drive but getting across the George Washington Bridge and navigating through the Bronx amid a sea of tractor-trailers was a bit of a pain. The next morning I easily completed the trip to New Hampshire and spent the night in Dover, about five miles outside of Durham. I stayed in Dover because, alas, there was no room in the inn at Durham when I made arrangements for lodging. The next day I move my belongings to the Holiday Inn Select at Durham and settled in for the Institute. On my return trip, getting past the traffic and bother of New York City was again my goal and I spent the night at East Windsor, New Jersey (near Princeton) via the Massachusetts Turnpike and a scenic trip through the Berkshires.

Anyhow, back to the Institute. Here are some highlights: My first interest involved Advanced Placement Latin and the College Board... Too much time was spent at the first session involving the grading of this year's exams with the presenters talking about how they had nothing to do with the decision about cancelling the AP Latin Lit exam and how we all must be calm and reasonable. No problem there. The later plenary session, titled "Latin Advanced Placement Tests: Responses and New Directions?", promised to be more interesting but I left disappointed and feeling no better (and no more informed) about the entire situation. No one was present who had actually had some say in the decision, just those who had something to say. Primarily, and I find this impressive after the initial reaction on LatinTeach and elsewhere, there were no fireworks, yelling, screaming, or crying. Everyone remained civil. We were assured that the Vergil exam would not change (probably) for the next three years or so and that we all, teachers, professors, professional organizations, would have input into future changes. I don't know how this was promised when there were no "officials" present. Most of the comments and suggestions were interesting and reasonable but there was nothing new or even reassuring that we had regained control of what and how we teach on the upper levels (if, indeed, we ever had control). I was annoyed at the presenter from a very prestigious prep school who suggested that we really don't need the AP exam. His school had dropped the entire AP program several years earlier and, guess what, their students continued to have no problem getting into Harvard, Yale, and Princeton. Um, when your prestigious prep school carries instant name recognition, it is true that AP results make no difference in the admissions offices, BUT your average high school in your average town across the country has to buy into the AP program in order to level the playing field just a bit for their students. Like I said, I did not leave the plenary feeling better about things.

I was very interested by Matthew Hartnett's presentation on "Inscriptions and Graffiti in the Latin Classroom" and I intend to bring this genre of authentic Latin into my classes as soon as possible. Just because it isn't great literature doesn't mean it isn't interesting and has value in the classroom.

Ken Kitchell's "Teaching Latin Comp the Fun Way - The Long and the Short of It" was thoroughly enjoyable. It was refreshing (and a little reassuring) to learn that colleges and universities assign creative projects for their students and they end up having a great time while learning.

I was the presider for "Latin Via Storytelling: Backwards Design to Fit Any Textbook" and this session may well prove the most useful for me. Bob Patrick, Stephanie Sylvester, and Rachel Ash did an outstanding job of presenting the techniques and benefits of TPRS in the Latin classroom. The almost painless method of teaching and learning new vocabulary is alone worth consideration of this method. I need to apply some more thought here.

More than anything else, the benefit and purpose of attending an ACL Institute are the opportunities to meet new teachers and reconnect with old fiends and acquaintances. Putting a face with a name only seen on LatinTeach is great. It is very important that a professional establish contacts and networks in order for ideas, help, and suggestions to flow freely. No one can teach on an island and expect to grow.

Finally, there was the clambake. Not being a fan of seafood, I must admit that I opted for the barbequed chicken. I know that I wimped out but I have never found seafood to be palatable (and to think that I live so close to the Chesapeake Bay!). I did enjoy the company of my colleagues who were enjoying their lobsters and clams, though, and that's the best thing!

Next year in LA? We'll see!

Returning to the Task at Hand

I have been ignoring this blog for way too long. It is time to get back to writing and putting down into words my thoughts and ideas about Latin, the ancient world, and teaching.

Riding Those Ponies

In this day of quick and easy answers from the internet, it is too easy for our students to give in to the expedient and avoid the honorable. I have seen students take a question and make a bee-line for Wikipedia and not really read the article but scan it and hit the print button. They will read the copy later. On top of that, they also make multiple copies and distribute them to their classmates. They too will read the copies later. I have seen Latin students (gasp!) Google a poem of Catullus, make copies, and pass them around. No problem, though, their homework is done and they can move on to more important things.

O tempora! O mores! What would Cato say? What would Cicero think? What would Quintilian do?

The answer lies in what we expect from our students. They have ready access to all the answers and this resource is not going away. We as teachers need to refocus our efforts and teach our charges how to handle and understand all these answers. What is a good answer and what is bad? Why? How can one tell the difference?

Unfortunately the machines are now the vessels of knowledge. The belief among the students are that there is no longer a need to learn and memorize, regardless of the need to spout forth these seemingly random facts on the so-called high stakes test du jour.

I tell my students that they need to learn how to think, how to analyze, and how to understand what is being said by the author we are reading. If they take the easy path and print out someone else's translation, they are, in fact, defeating the purpose for being in the class. Anyone can read off from someone else's efforts and feel satisfied... but to what end?

More thoughts later -- I think I'm just rambling here.

O Fortunate Rock

In my Latin III classes we are translating O Fortuna from the Carmina Burana. The Latin is not difficult and the students enjoy honing their skills on something short and sweet. What made the class sweeter was playing the music to this poem and seeing my students' eyes light up as they immediately recognized the tune. I asked them where they had heard this music before and they offered several movies and commercials... one girl even suggested The Lion King.

I then played the rock version of O Fortuna by a band called Therion and I had them hooked. If you haven't heard this version before, go to iTunes and give it a listen... it is truly impressive and will replay over and over in your head.

There's something to be said when the Latin students leave the room and saunter down the hall whistling or humming the music from O Fortuna!

A Rosetta Stone on the Acropolis

Archaeologists have unearthed a stone on the Acropolis in both Greek and Latin! :)

My daughter took this photograph in June 2007.

Ha! So Much for Therapy!

It is Presidents' Day, February 18, and I am making my first post since August. I had said posting to my blog would be therapy for seven classes with five preps, department duties, Latin Club, certamen, and other outside professional responsibilities... Who has time for therapy?

The year has been very busy (as you would expect) and time just slips away. I can barely keep all my classes up to speed and sometimes that doesn't even happen. I often describe myself as a juggler. I have so many balls to juggle, though, that it takes all my talent just to keep them in the air -- don't expect me to do anything fancy with them. And, yes, sometimes I drop one or two and they may lie on the floor for a little while, but I snatch them up and toss them back into the air.

I really do want to get back to my blogging.

The Wheel in the Sky

I was listening to the local classic rock station driving to the first teacher workday this morning and when I turned onto the street on which the school is located, I heard these lyrics:

Oh, the wheel in the sky keeps on turning
Ooh, I don`t know where I`ll be tomorrow
Wheel in the sky keeps me yearning
Ooh, I don`t know, I don`t know

This song by Journey is not perhaps the most appropriate song (Google the lyrics) but the first line which Steve Perry kept singing was fitting. Each year is a new beginning. The graduating seniors have been replaced by the eager, tentative, incoming freshmen, and the retiring teachers have been replaced by eager, tentative, incoming rookies. Everyone gets a new, fresh start and the wheels keep on turning.

Here We Go Again!

It is the evening before veteran teachers are to report to school. The rookies have already spent three days in training camp. The supplies have been ordered. The floors are waxed. There's no doubt that a new school year is about to begin.

I look back at my summer with mixed results. I am a bit surprised because I am not even sure that summers are supposed to have results. I had grand plans of revamping all my classes and having all these amazing handouts and presentations ready to go. Ha-ha... no. There's no great disappointment, though, because things can always be revamped as we go, and that's probably better pedagogy because any revision will fit the students in their present situation, not in some pie-in-the-sky, administrative expectation.

I am embarking on my 21st year of teaching and, guess what, I'm still trying to figure it all out. If any teacher tells you they have all the answers and know exactly how things work, look at them askance, make up some excuse that you left your first day handouts on the copier machine, and move away. You may need to smile and nod, but that usually covers the requisite response.

I am planning to post more this year, if, for nothing else, as a means of therapy. For the first time in many, many years, I am the only Latin teacher in the building and will be teaching all five levels: Latin I, Latin II, Latin III, Latin IV, and AP Latin Literature (Catullus & Ovid). Add to this mix an active Latin Club, competitive certamen teams, and a bunch of other professional responsibilities. My wife is the head teacher-librarian (NBCT!) where I teach, my daughter will be entering the same high school (and having me as a Latin teacher) and my son will be in his last year of elementary school. They all have active schedules and life for the next 10 months or so is looking to be quite hectic. Therapy will be a necessity!

Crossing the Rubicon with a Ham and Cheese on Rye

I was making my way to the grocery store the other day and noticed that the construction at the community church across the street was almost complete. During the building I was impressed that the church was making such a large addition - more than doubling its space - and then learned how they were going to use their extra rooms. One wing is labeled "Education Center" and the other "Rubicon Cafe." I had to take another look as I left the grocery store to make sure I was reading it correctly. The church is very popular and has grown tremendously in the past few years since it has opened. It is nice to see them expanding their offerings.

When Julius Caesar reached the Rubicon River back in 49 BC, he had to make the decision whether to cross this boundary into Italy Proper at the head of his troops and, thus, essentially declare civil war on Rome. He crossed the Rubicon, declaring "Alea iacta est!" ("The die is cast!"), and passed the point of no return. He had made his move.

Now, a church calling its public cafe "Rubicon" is making quite a statement. It certainly adds a lot of pressure for someone who stops in for a ham and cheese on rye.

Authors as Prophets

On the day when the world was tearing into J.K. Rowling's seventh and final book in the wildly successful series about the boy-wizard Harry Potter and his fight against evil, I must admit that I, at last, picked up her first book, Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone. I am familiar with the characters, the plot, most details of the story, and (being the parent of a 14- and 10-year-old) have seen all the movies multiple times. I discussed the seventh book with my wife and daughter who finished the tome the very same evening they waited in line to get their copies. Now that I know how the story ends, I am reading all the works with an eye to how the author develops her story and seek to tie up the loose ends as I come across them. I am still enjoying the story and expect to learn, first-hand, many more details of the story.

Early in the first book (toward the end of the first chapter), I was struck by a passage in which Professor McGonagall claims, "[Harry Potter will] be famous -- a legend -- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future -- there will be books written about Harry -- every child in the world will know his name!" When Rowling was writing this first book, surely she didn't believe that her books would be so wildly successful. She could certainly hope so, but hindsight now proves her prophetic statement to be amazingly correct!

Immediately I thought of Latin authors who had made similar prophetic statements in their own works. Ovid writes, Mantua Vergilio, gaudet Verona Catullo;/ Paelignae dicar gloria gentis ego (Mantua rejoices in Vergil, Verona in Catullus; I shall be called the glory of the Pelignian race)(Amores III.15, ll. 7-8). Of course Ovid is writing after he has accumulated some fame but he has no doubts that he will be famous and deserves (rightly so) to be included in the same club with Vergil and Catullus. Further, Martial writes toto notus in orbe Martialis/ argutis epigrammaton libellis ([I am] Martial, known around the world for his clever little books of epigrams)(Epigrams I.1, ll. 2-3). He, also having already attained fame, has correctly predicted the future. Finally, there is the famous Latin quote which immediately came to mind as soon as I read Rowling's words, Non omnis moriar multaque pars mei/vitabit Libitinam; usque ego postera/crescam laude recens, dum Capitolium/ scandet cum tacita virgine pontifex. (I shall not entirely die and a big part of me will avoid Death; I will continue to grow fresh with following praise as long as the pontifex climbs the Capitoline with the silent virgin.)(Horace, Odes III.30, ll. 6-9). Horace is confident in his permanent place in literary history. He, too, though, writes with the knowledge that he is already a great poet. What did Rowling know of her coming fame and prosperity? Will her works become classics and be read many, many years from now? She (and we) really have no way to tell. Her legacy will assuredly rest in bringing countless people, including school children distracted by so many things outside of formal education, to opening a book and (obsessively) devouring it's words.

As a side note, I pondered Horace's words and realized how true his prediction still is. He said that he will continue to live, and subsequently be read, as long as the Pontifex climbs the Capitol accompanied by the silent Virgin. A different Pontifex (the Pope) still climbs a hill (the Vatican which is the Capitol of the Catholic Church) accompanied by the silent Virgin (Mary, the Mother of Christ).

Back to Basics

At the end of the school year I learned that I will be teaching Latin I this fall. Most teachers would not find this assignment surprising but I am a tiny bit nervous and becoming increasingly excited because I have not taught Latin I for well over a decade... maybe since 1994! I have taught Latin II, III, IV, V, AP Vergil, and AP Latin Literature, but the Latin I classes have always been covered by teachers who floated between schools.

This new addition to my teaching assignment provides me with the opportunity to apply those techniques and ideas which have been discussed and presented at numerous workshops, institutes, and on the LatinTeach list. Such things include oral Latin and pronunciation, emphasis on reading and not simply translation, and integration of culture, history, and mythology into the Latin (Why can't the questions and/or answers about these subject areas be in Latin?).

I have long inherited students who have adopted the philosophies, techniques, interests, and abilities of their Latin I teachers. Some of these teachers have been experienced, others fresh off the vine. I took their students and moved them forward from where they were dropped off. Sometimes I could make adjustments, sometimes not.

Now is the time for me to put up or shut up. I will be taking a group of students and teaching them from the very beginning. It will be an exciting ride... stay tuned!

Making Connections II: Paying It Forward

On a recent trip to Italy and Greece I called a student over to my table after dinner and invited her to sit down. I told her I had something for her to think about. Just that day we had visited the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican City and I came upon this student standing in the middle of the floor, slowly turning her head. Her jaw had dropped and her eyes were wide open. This place, this moment, had made her trip. Everything else we would see afterwards would be fluff, second-rate -- exciting, but not as moving as Michelangelo's magnificent ceiling. This student had just graduated from high school where she had participated in four years of a very rigorous and demanding gifted program. She is also an artist and used this outstanding talent as a creative outlet. She will continue her education in the fall at the College of William & Mary, taking anything and everything but reserving space in her schedule for art and art history. Now, back to dinner. I told my student that this year was the 25th anniversary of my first trip to Rome and that I had come as a student, just having graduated from high school, with my Latin teacher. I told her that she needed to give consideration to bringing her own art students to Italy in the future and give some student the same experience my Latin teacher had given me and which I had just given her. I asked her to pay it forward. She said that she would...

Making Connections I

I know that I have posted an image of an umbrella pine tree before... but today I have a reason!

My students and I recently returned from a trip to Italy and Greece and I have a proud-teacher moment I have to share. We had just passed through the Porta Marina and into Pompeii when our local guide herded us into the shade and began his spiel about the city and the eruption of Mount Vesuvius which buried the site in AD 79. The guide went into great detail to describe the eruption and likened the cloud which rose from the mountain to a mushroom or a nuclear blast. One of my students bravely raised her hand and commented, "Pliny the Younger described the cloud as an umbrella pine tree." The guide paused a moment and replied, "Yes! Yes, indeed! You are quite correct!" and, with no umbrella pines in sight, described the tree for the rest of our group. Seemingly impressed that there were students who knew who Pliny the Younger was and had even translated the letter from Latin, he continued to make reference to the letter as our tour continued.

For the rest of the tour that afternoon, I was the one who was beaming with pride that my student had referenced material we had covered in the classroom and used it to make a visit to Pompeii more meaningful.

• Footnote 1: When you take a group to Pompeii, ask for Eugenio/Eugene or Mimo. Both of these local guides are outstanding and will try to accomodate requests.
• Footnote 2: If you have extra time in the schedule and the weather is cooperating, ask for more time after the organized tour to allow students to take more pictures or visit sites not normally on the tour, e.g., the amphitheater, gladiators' barracks, palaestra, etc.

Monumentum Amphitheatri Flaviani Nocte Visum

The Flavian Amphitheater at night...a much more peaceful place than during the day. This photograph was taken by the husband of a colleague during our trip in July 2005.

Culpa

I began class the other day by reviewing (very briefly) the indirect command and then asking for a quick outline of the story we were translating before picking up in the middle and moving forward. I was met with blank stares. I asked again, even calling upon some students by name. I was becoming frustrated and could feel my blood-pressure rising; I was thinking that no one in the class had bothered to do the assignment. Then I looked down at my lesson plans and realized that I had not even introduced the indirect command to them and they had not been assigned the translation... we had not even begun the translation! I paused. I smiled. I laughed. And then I told them to never mind -- that was the other class' assignment. Some looked relieved, some smiled, others looked annoyed (but that's OK, they look annoyed most of the time). I teach on the alternating day (A-B) block scheduling system and had confused my "A" day class with my "B" which was a couple days ahead.

I have made mistakes in the classroom before. I can remember introducing a topic once (I forget what it was) and, although not bothering to review my notes ahead of time, presented it to my students with great confidence and flourish. I scribbled away on the board and they dutifully took the notes. Then I told them to open up their books and look at some examples for practice. I was horrified (internally) to discover that what I had spent the last fifteen minutes or so explaining was wrong... very wrong. I paused. I smiled. I laughed. And then I told them to never mind, "Please take the notes you just wrote, rip them out of your notebook, and throw them away!" I even picked up the trash can and carried it desk to desk so that they could throw their notes away. I explained that, yes, even I made mistakes and that I had just made a big one. I then took a bow and said, "Let's start again."

In my twenty years of teaching, I have made numerous mistakes. I humbly express my mea culpas and move forward. Students need to see that teachers make mistakes, but, even more importantly, they need to see their teachers admitting them and correcting them. Some of what we teach in the classroom has little to do with the subject matter described in the course catalog. None of us is perfect and none of us should lead our students to believe that we are. Part of learning language is making mistakes and having those mistakes corrected and, thus, providing experiences to build on.

I remember early one morning in Rome. I awoke and slipped out of the hotel before my students were to meet downstairs for breakfast. I went to the cafe next door and confidently ordered, "Uno cappuccino, per favore." I had been practicing the phrase all the way to the counter because I wanted to use what little Italian I knew. The man behind the counter held up a thumb and said, "Un cappucino." I replied, "Grazie" and he gave me wink. I think I gave him a large tip and went on to enjoy my coffee at the table outside. Even though I know (in Latin) that adjectives agree in case, number, and gender, and that the adjective does not need to have the same ending as the noun, I now know that this Italian adjective doesn't end in an "o" but it still agrees with cappucino.

One of my students came to me yesterday and claimed that she had a teacher who had used a Latin phrase in the classroom. My student told her teacher that she had used it incorrectly. The teacher indignantly replied, "How do you know?" My student replied that she was a Latin student. The teacher snorted that she (the teacher) knew what she was talking about and continued on.

This teacher was unwilling to admit a mistake and, in doing so, lost some respect in the eyes of a student. We as teachers need to realize that we do have more experience and training, but we are not smarter or better than our students.

"Doing my Latin homework takes forever!"

A student came to see me after school recently and wanted to know if I had any suggestions for helping her complete her Latin homework assignments -- translation assignments, specifically. She lamented that it was taking her over an hour to "do" her translations and then she still didn't understand what the Latin was saying.

I asked her to tell me exactly what she did and how she did it.

If she was given an assignment of 20 lines to translate from the story (in Ecce Romani II), she said that she copied down every word (even et and sed) in a long list and them looked up every word and wrote the English meaning next to it. After this tedious process she would look over the translation and then try to make sense out of it. She said that she would then become frustrated and usually give up.

I quickly saw the problem in this approach and offered some advice:

1) The problem - She was looking up the words outside of context. By making a list and writing down the meaning (usually the first one listed), she was losing or missing the meaning as it fit with the other words.

2) The other problem - She was looking up every word. I encourage my students to trust themeselves and guess at the meaning based upon the context. If she looks up movere and discovers that it means "to move," she has used valuable time on an item she could have very well anticipated.

3) My solution - Don't write down every word, or any words, for that matter. Read the sentence to yourself (preferably outloud) and then anticipate the meaning. If you need to look up a word (or a few words), do so but choose the meaning that works in context.

She took my advice and discovered that she could shave off over half the time she typically spent on translations and had a better understanding of what the Latin actually meant.

The Masculinity of Julius Caesar

A recent article posted on David Meadow's outstanding blog, rogueclassicism, offered wonderful and concise information on how we know how the ancient Romans pronounced Latin. I've searched for the actual article but cannot put my cursor on it at the moment.

Julius Caesar's arrogant boast, "Veni! Vidi! Vici!" is one of the most well-known Latin phrases tossed about in a variety of contexts. Many who quote this ditty then go on to claim that it could never have been pronounced "WAY-nee, WEE-dee, WEE-kee" because Julius Caesar never would have been caught dead saying anything nearly so wimpy. It seems that the "W" sound is not masculine enough for this general-turned dictator-turned god and that it must have been pronounced with a very forceful "V" sound accompanied by a dramatic extension of the arms.

Well now. One's language is not a matter of choice but one of necessity. If a person wants to get his point across, he must communicate in the tongue offered to him. Imagine today the tragic discomfort of a man, a real man who has just gotten off an eighteen-hour shift building, bare-handed, a bridge across a raging river, who drives his mud-encrusted SUV through the drive-thru lane of the popular fast-food restaurant and must speak into the plastic character's mouth, "I'll have the Ballerina Belle Chicken Sandwich with the Pink Tutu lemonade, the Petey Pirate Jolly Roger Burger with the Ahoy Matey shake, and a side order of Baby Bunny Tasty Delight Cinnamon Rolls." Does he have his gym card taken away? Do his buddies cancel their hunting trip? Do his monster tires deflate for having to say such unmanly things? Of course not.

We cannot judge Julius Caesar and his masculinity based upon our perceptions in modern society. If "Veni! Vidi! Vici!" was pronounced with a "W" (and indications are that it was), who are we to judge whether this was a manly-enough sounding phrase? His language was his language and he spoke it without a thought. We've been told that the shoes of Roman senators were pink. Does this fact make that august body any less manly? I won't even mention that Julius Caesar is said to have plucked his body hair and even wore a tunic instead of pants. Were these girly-man traits the true cause of the fall of the Roman Empire? Hmmm...

Heading Down the Road

Today we reached the three-quarters mark of the school year. The weather is warm, the flowers are beginning to bloom, and the trees are starting to bud. Springtime has come to Virginia. This means, of course, that our teenagers turn their thoughts to matters other than Latin.

Now comes the battery of state testing, the barrage of field trips which have, up-to-now, been denied because of preparation for state testing, and the myriad of other distractions which come alive this time of year.

I have often said that anything you want to teach you really need to present before the final marking period. Don't get me wrong... I will continue to teach and offer opportunities for learning, but I need to remind myself not to get too frustrated when things don't go as smoothly as possible. It is time to vary the activities and keep the students guessing.

I realize that I'm not offering any specifics in this posting -- perhaps later.

Things to remind the students: 1) The only way to coast is downhill. 2) Yes, we are going to continue to work after the AP exam, and, no, we will not be having a film festival. 3) Seniors! The last day of school is June 1, not April 1. I realize that your acceptance letters have arrived, but that doesn't mean that you have finished the race. We are rounding the final turn but the long straight-away remains!

Oh, yeah... the photograph is from our visit to Ostia Antica in 2005.

Marginalia

marginalia (MAR-je-NA-le-a) n. pl. Notes, thoughts, ideas, doodles, and the like written in the margins of a book or textbook.

When I began this blog as an experiment over a year ago, I named it "Pro linguae Latinae magistris." My goal was to share ideas and experiences that would be useful for other Latin teachers. I have enjoyed the replies of teachers and (something I find very interesting) others who have an interest in things classical. I have now renamed my blog "Marginalia" not because my purposes have changed, but because it better describes what I actually ended up writing. I hope my past comments have been helpful in some way and that my new postings will continue to be of interest to Latin teachers and others who find such commentary useful or entertaining.

History Repeats Itself

In the "The more things change, the more they stay the same" department, we have news out of Italy which reminds us (sadly) of an incident from the ancient Roman world.

CNN reports that a riot between the fans supporting the rival soccer teams from Catania and Palermo has resulted in the death of a police officer and the arrest of 29 brawlers outside the stadium. The officials in the Italian soccer federation have canceled all soccer games for the weekend (Feb. 3-4, 2007) and may consider longer suspension of Italy's most popular sport.

How different is this news from the scene illustrated on the picture above? This fresco shows the fighting between the inhabitants of Pompeii and the nearby town of Nuceria in AD 59. This conflict resulted in the suspension of gladiatorial contests in the town for ten years.

O TEMPORA, O MORES...

Combined (and Uncombined) Classes

I am very excited this year because, for the first time in years, I am not teaching Latin IV students and Advanced Placement students in the same room at the same time. I have handled this situation well in the past but was never very happy with the idea. I have tried different approaches to this arrangement, including splitting the class and teaching each half separately with separate curricula, while the other half completes assignments, projects, or groupwork, and teaching both halves together, the same curriculum, but having different "levels" of expectations and requirements. I prefer the latter, and had the most success doing so.

Now that I have each level in separate classes, I don't have to make special requirements or divide myself or my attention: AP Latin is cruising through Vergil's Aeneid and there's no looking back at the dust we are leaving behind, and Latin IV is reviewing and handling items of grammar and syntax (some advanced) and cutting their teeth on authentic Latin literature. Happiness all around... almost... but more about that later.

In Latin IV this year we are reading and translating from Caesar's De Bello Gallico... an author and work that I am embarrassed to admit that I have ignored for more than a decade. I have plans to revisit Pliny and Cicero (returning to the much neglected prose authors) and then move on to Ovid's Ars Amatoria (after blowing the dust off of those textbooks as well). Basically I plan to revisit authors and works *I* haven't read for a while... Vergil, Catullus, Ovid, and Horace are great authors and I wouldn't ditch them for the world but I'll leave those for the APs and we IVs can snuggle up with the others.

Now for the downside... I am in the wonderful situation where numbers are not a problem -- I owe that to lots of hard work and interesting, challenging classes. Last year I was given a schedule which included two Latin IV/AP classes: one on "A" day and one on "B" day (we operate on an alternating day block schedule). This arrangement allowed two options for a student to fit Latin into his or her schedule. Essentially almost everyone was a happy customer. This year, though, we offer Latin IV on "A" day and AP Latin on "B" day. Due to several "singleton" classes (most of them APs) and band, some upper-level Latin students were not able to take the class of their choice, or (miserabile dictu!) did not take Latin at all!

I was not willing to take on any students in independent and/or individual instruction because I have four preparations (which sometimes morph into six when the classes on "A" and "B" get on different paces), an active Latin Club and certamen teams, department responsibilities as chair, professional activities outside of school, and a family with two active and busy children.

Which teaching situation do I prefer? I must honestly admit that the jury is still out.

Have Column, Will Photo

For so long the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina was the first site I visited after entering the Forum Romanum. Back in the day you had to enter from the Via del Fori Imperiali and actually pay 12,000 lire... Now things have changed and this entrance (and paying to enter) have become a thing of the past. As it should be, entrance into the forum is now free BUT your freedom is much more restricted. Unfortunately, you now must remain within an enclosed space and see the sites from a short distance. Frustrating it is, but I guess I understand. It is always disappointing, though, that few sightseers actually venture into the forum and fewer still really understand what they are looking at. In case you were interested, my favorite entrance now into the forum is down from the Capitoline Hill and near the Mamertine Prison (Tullianum). The best exit remains walking past the Arch of Titus and into the plaza containing the Colosseum. Oh yeah... that's where the crowds are!

I posted this photograph, taken in July 2005, because I was feeling guilty that I hadn't written in a while. I must make more of an effort!

"Latin Word Order Doesn't Matter..."

I hear repeatedly from my students that they have been taught that Latin word order does not matter. I gasp and reply that Latin word order makes all the difference!

A little bit of background first -- I teach Latin II, III, IV, AP Latin Literature, and AP Latin: Vergil. Strange to say, I have not taught Latin I in well over a decade! I regularly get my students from four different Latin I teachers and then lead them upward as far as they are willing and able to go.

I have come to the conclusion that I will have to approach these teachers and address this issue as a fundamental understanding of the Latin language. Since I am not known particularly for my tact, I will have to proceed gently and bring up the subject at the appropriate time.

I tell my Latin II and III students (when we complete our Compositio Hodierna) that the Romans did not have punctuation, did not underline their words, did not have bold print or italics, but relied upon word order to show emphasis and contribute to the meaning.

An example readily made itself available today as we began our reading of Caesar's De Bello Gallico in Latin IV. After encouraging my advanced students to read and translate in Latin word order (left to right, NOT hunting for the subject and verb, as I am so accustomed to do), we came across in the very first paragraph,

Gallos ab Aquitanis Garumna flumen, a Belgis Matrona et Sequana dividit.

When a student asked, "Why did the sentence begin with an accusative?" and scratched his head, I, remembering the conversation I had had with Latin II just the class period before, seized the opportunity to discuss the meaning and importance of Latin word order. I told them that the most important positions in the Latin sentence was the first and last words and that everything in between simply filled in the meaning. So, in our sentence from Caesar, the emphasis was on "the Gauls" and what happened to them (dividit), not so much on the names of the actual rivers, although that information was still important.

I have frequently had this conversation with my AP students when we are analyzing poetry, but I have never really taught this to my lower level students for whom this information is just as important. Now if I can just tell the Latin I teachers who send me their students...

Unpacking the Year

Experienced teachers report for duty on Wednesday, August 16. There will be a week of greetings, meetings, and crafting plans for the upcoming school year. It is a ritual I have experienced 19 times before. As I begin my 20th year of teaching, it should be "old hat" by now, but, gratefully, it is not.

I returned to school this last Monday and spent the week moving boxes, unpacking, and decorating my classroom. I like coming in early and taking care of the aesthetic issues -- it sets the stage, creates the mood, and gives me an opportunity to ease into the year.

Many teachers complain at the end of the year that packing up is such a waste of time, particularly since we have to unpack it all again at the beginning of the year. I understand the need for cleaning, reassigning rooms, and keeping things in order, but I enjoy unpacking for another reason. As I pull items out of boxes and place books back on shelves, it gives me an opportunity to revisit each item, re-evaluate its purpose, and weed out those things which no longer make the cut. More importantly, it also provides me with the time to reminisce -- yesterday I found a stack of Latin Club photographs I took several years ago of students I had almost forgotten. Revisiting the past provides great incentive for the future. Isn't that a lot of what we do in Latin class?

Now I can commit my time to writing lesson plans, creating handouts, and giving attention to the World Languages Department (I am the department chair) and assisting our new teachers (this year we have four in our department!). And the students arrive on the 23rd!