#latin class

so that same year, i was in latin one. my teacher, or magistra, (latin feminine form for teacher) was and still is the best person in the history of ever. she's getting a phd in latin fables and is a huge nerd and i love her with all my heart and soul. i loved that class so fucking much it isn't even funny. still do. miss you, latin club, miss you, magistra, miss you, certamen. (latin themed quiz bowl, for the uninitiated, or as my friends called it, the Autism-Off.)

latin club, after school thursdays, mostly practised for certamen with this thing we called the hydra. it's actually called quiz wizard, but it has a ton of wires so it looks like a hydra. (looking back my GOD that room was full of neurodivergence) but something we also did in latin club was celebrate certain ancient roman holidays! no saturnalia because slavery was a key aspect of it, but we did all the other major ones. and of course, our biggest festival of the year was the ides of march...

in march, my english class was reading julius caesar and my history class was learning about ancient rome. i began to connect some dots.

i started my scheme by sending a mass email to my world civ class, asking who would wish to become a conspirator in this great plan. many did not respond because my freshman year classmates had a severe whimsy deficiency. but the few who did became very close friends in the remainder of that school year.

one of these conspirators had a friend who had a great talent for crafting those paper claw thingies. he asked said friend if he could transfer his skillset to help our cause by making paper daggers. said friend agreed. i crafted for myself a paper dagger with some strategically placed red marker on the tip. it was great fun.

and then, i emailed our english teacher. she agreed to my scheme very quickly, because although she was a pretentious bitch on many occasions, she too had a great deal of whimsy. and what was the part of my scheme involving her, you might ask? she was to draw our history teacher out into the hallway for a quick discussion. (i still don't actually know what she discussed with him) she was to position them so that his back was to the door.

i sent that email on march fourteenth.

she replied with a simple "yes, i would be happy to" at six a.m. on the day itself, march fifteenth.

so we all get to school. first period passes uneventfully. third period passes uneventfully. fifth period, history class, arrives quickly. the conspirator whose friend made paper daggers passed one to every co-conspirator as quickly as he could before our history teacher came in from standing ominously in the hallway, an activity he was fond of doing during each passing period.

our history teacher arrived in class. our english teacher sent me a mischievious smile. the plan was in motion.

paper daggers hidden up sleeves, under hoodies, between book pages, we waited while our history teacher spoke in great dramatic depth about gladiators and archaeologists and general ancient roman history. he let us loose for independent work time on an assignment. we waited, and waited, and waited, under the innocent guise of working.

finally, our english teacher sent me a meaningful glance, before asking our history teacher if she could speak with him in the hallway.

something i probably should have mentioned much sooner is that in this classroom there was a podium from which the teacher of the day would instruct us on the ways of the world of old and its peoples.

now we remember the friend who got the paper daggers, right? he hid behind the podium. i, along with most of the co-conspirators and some mildly interested non-conspirators who were given extra daggers, snuck Silently to just behind the doorframe.

paper-dagger-getter's plan was to stab our teacher one final time when he returned to his podium. the plan of the mob that i led behind the doorframe was to go at it the old-fashioned way. there were less than 23 of us, so for full historical accuracy, some of us would have to stab him multiple times.

and we did just that.

with a cry of "forth, conspirators!" from my lips, i gave the signal and we struck as one, as a cohort, as a union. (marx would be proud)

now i have mentioned that my english teacher was a pretentious bitch on many an occasion, but she also had, as i have stated, a great deal of whimsy. she cried out in anguish as her colleague fell to the might of his own students' blades.

the history teacher, too, had a great deal of whimsy. gasping for breath and sinking to his knees right there in the open doorway for any class-skippers to see in full view, he wheezed out his last words: "et tu, cohortes?"

and with that, he was dead.

but then he got back up and kept teaching us about ancient romans, walking back to his podium with all the pomp and circumstance of a man resurrected by his own sheer will.

waiting for him behind the podium was paper-dagger-getter, who stabbed him directly through the heart one final time.

he let out a defeated cry and kept on lecturing, we all returned to our seats, we all had a good laugh, teachers and students alike.

but THEN paper-dagger-getter had the utter audacity to claim that the whole thing was his idea.

what's a dramatic sonofabitch to do but stab him?

so that i did.

and then he stabbed me in retaliation.

i was a theatre kid, still am. he was not. he just sort of went "whoopsies that hurt" meanwhile i was giving what my freshman year self considered to be the performance of a lifetime.