Yesterday, for my 4th semester Greek class we were supposed to recite the first seven lines of the Iliad from memory. It was on the schedule for weeks, everyone knew about it. There were only two people in the class that were remotely prepared two days prior. On the day of the blessed event, about 10 minutes before class, one of the aforementioned prepared students walked in. I gave her a hard time, told her we all hated her because she was ready and we were not. She smiled, laughed really, just did it silently. I said something else and then she walked over and handed me a note.
"I am observing the National day of Silence."
Oh, OK. I've heard of it. Sort of a vague memory, but couldn''t tell you anything about it. So I ask "For what organization?" She is quiet (of course she's quiet, she has a cause!), looks a little fuddled, then writes "PRIDE, I think". So she can't even tell me for whom she is doing this.
Well, class time comes and she shows the note to our professor. He's not impressed. After everyone else has recited, he calls upon our intrepid mime. She shakes her head "No". He tells her she must. She clenches her fists, and rapidly shakes her head "No". She looks like a toddler being told to eat her broccoli, but I'm sure she believed herself to look noble and courageous. And she doesn't know who she is doing it for! But she must care an awful lot, right?
I think Yeats applies:
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
1 comment:
What a funny story. So true of so many of us. We'll go to the mat for... um... what was it again?
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