July 1, 2010

Education

The sun broke free from the clouds and cast its rays on a classroom of thirty high-schoolers frantically scribbling down the words of an educator. The students had become writing machines, all save for the new kid who observes them quietly.

He was a quiet child who arrived in the middle of the year, seldom spoke, and almost never smiled. Most of time he was off to one side, in shade that he almost invariably managed to find regardless of where he was or the time of day; and so, with his dark clothes he was easy to overlook unless you were looking for him.

His clear green eyes scanned the room through his unruly long hair. A quiet observer of a scene unfolding: a professor who is quite visibly completely uninterested in imparting his knowledge to students whose sole reason for being present is social convention; each group existing solely in their own distinctly separate dimensions. The young man observed all of these things and burst into laughter.

The sudden laughter interrupted the teacher who tried to thunder the impertinent student with a glare, but it was as effective as glaring at a shadow. The students eagerly pounced upon the opportunity for distraction, turned from their sheets and snickered at the new kid who paid them no heed and carried on filling the room with his hearty laughter.

Abruptly he vanished, taking with him any sign of his having ever been.

Thirty seconds passed…
A minute.

The teacher resumed his logorrhea where he had left off, the students once again took up their writing implements and their unthinking pantomime. And all was as it had been before, as if the young man had never existed. But one of the students remembered him and thought to herself: “I wonder what he was laughing about…”
She dropped her pencil and starting looking…
BTW, there's a poll up on the top left side of my blog.
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Le soleil, caché jusqu’alors dans les nuages, éclaira de ses rayons les élèves qui scribaient avec frénésie les propos d’un représentant de l’éducation. Les élèves, transformés en machines à écrire, étaient observés par l’exception : le nouveau.

Il était arrivé en cours de semestre et ne parlait quasiment pas, et souriait encore moins. Il se maintenait a l’écart, le plus souvent dans l’ombre qu’il ne manquait jamais de trouver quel que fut le lieu ou le moment du jour, ainsi avec ses vêtements sombres on le remarquait à peine, à moins de le chercher. Il observait donc la classe à travers le rideau de ses longs cheveux, ses yeux clairs observaient avec intérêt la scène. Le professeur qui apparemment n’avait aucune envie de partager son savoir et les élèves qui, de toute évidence n’avaient aucune envie d’apprendre ne semblait être présents que par convention pure. Chaque groupe existait dans sa dimension propre et leur mondes ne se touchaient presque jamais. Le jeune homme regardait autour de lui et rit.

La soudaine explosion du rire qui se prolongea interrompit l’enseignant qui essaya de foudroyer l’impertinent du regard, mais celui-ci était aussi indifférent que l’ombre dont il était vêtu. Les élèves trop heureux de la distraction, délaissaient leur feuilles en se tournant vers lui pour ricaner. Cela ne le dérangea en rien et son rire se poursuivit de plus belle.

Brusquement il disparut, emportant avec lui toute trace de son passage. Trente secondes passèrent, puis une minute. L’enseignant reprit sa logorrhée là où il l’avait laissée, les élèves leurs outils d’écriture et leur stupide pantomime. Ainsi tout fut comme avant, comme si le jeune homme n’eut jamais existé. Mais une des étudiantes se souvenait de lui et se demandait : « Pourquoi riait-t-il donc ? ». Elle posât son stylo et se mit à regarder, à observer…

15 comments:

  1. How creepy! Like most of your twists, I wasn't expecting it.

    Don't we all feel like outside observers in certain circumstances? I think I do in most.

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  2. Sometimes it takes a jolt before we start to be aware.

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  3. Creepy? It just sounds like a regular ol' French classroom to me.

    ...oh. hmmm. I guess that is actually creepy.

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  4. Hello Theresa. It wouldn't be much of a twist if you were expecting it. : j
    I can't speak for "we all", but as far as I'm concerned, I agree and think that it it might, to some extent, be common to writers, and more generally to artists who represent realities. But again, that might be lacking in perspective, there is a whole class of creators who thrive from being a part of things. Hmm...
    ---
    Aloha Kass. Aye, and sometimes a good example reaches people.

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  5. Ha... Khnoum, your words cut to the marrow of it. Yeah this scene is inspired by the french school system.
    :}

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  6. Mysterious! Where did he go? Is this really what French classrooms are like?
    Thanks for sharing. And it's fun reading through parts of the translation. My French is so rusty, it's good exercise!

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  7. N'cha Lydia. Yeah. Essentially most high-school classes are, or were when I went through them, all about a teacher rolling out a spiel and the students scribbling it down verbatim. Tests are then about student spitting the information back out verbatim.
    From what I hear from my teacher friends, it's till mostly like that.
    of course this is a general trend, there are some excellent teachers, but the system seems to be designed for and to promote the kind of education described above.

    As to where he went? I suppose he burst into laughter. : j
    or maybe he was just a lazy student's day dream? Or maybe he left to laugh in another class?

    Glad you enjoyed the french too! In this case the piece was originally written in french. : j

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  8. This could be the start of a novel. I'm interested in the girl, what dropping the pencil leads to, what she sees when she looks, great stuff, my mind is frantically making it up. Actually, this would make a great prompt for a writing group.

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  9. Heheh... Hello Eryl.
    Funny, I recall you telling me something similar just the other day. : j

    If you feel like taking the seed and running with it, please do.
    If you do and felt inclined to share, I'd be very interested to see what you wrote!

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  10. The ghost of laughter. I'm glad he disappeared. A very stale place for such an infectious giggler!

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  11. Aloha Annie!
    Keep your eye out, I wouldn't be at all surprised if you crossed paths with him at some unexpected time. : j

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  12. French is such a beautiful language, I wish I knew it. You painted a great picture here. I'm almost certain that in that classroom I would be the girl who dropped her pencil and tried to sort things out. Whether it meant to daydream, or to just wander off, that would be me!

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  13. I was the weird kid who arrived in the middle of the year... Didn't pull off the disappearing trick though. : j Just transferred out.
    I don't remember you being there... But that was probably because my hair was in my face. ; j

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  14. J’aime bien la description de l’élève inconnu – cela donne du caractère à l’histoire.

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  15. Du coup t'as lu l'histoire en français ou en anglais?
    Merci d'être passée me voir, ça fait toujours plaisir! :j

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