Student Profiles 2 & 3

Admittedly, my postings have been less than consistent of late--perhaps some explanation is in order. It is no secret that my social calendar has been relatively empty recently, but I teach six days a week, and a myriad of conundrums have kept my teeming brain even more so than usual.

Oddly enough, instead of providing a rich, diverting array of subject matter for les blog, performing these mental acrobatics has sapped my cerebral cortex of the energy requisite for writing. That I am penning my entries several weeks after they occur only compounds the difficulty since: a) many of the quirky, fresh details that give my entries vitality and realism have been blanched by the relentless, unforgiving rays of time; and b) sometimes I sit to type a "funny" entry on a day that I am suffering from melancholia, or vice versa--this does not work out so well. Apologies.

The two month gap since the last Student Profile is the not result of a lack of amusing, engaging activities in the classroom; indeed, few things could be further from the truth. Rather, other, more "important" and/or funny issues have occupied my mind, but another installment of this series dedicated to the midgets with whom I spend my days seems apropos.

Kevin, like Anthony, is not one of my students proper, but is a member of the homework time I used to monitor. Kevin is the only student of homework time whom I ever sent to detention; when I wrote his name on the board, that only made him object more vociferously than he was already talking. Kevn cuts his finger nails into pointy claw-like wedges to resemble those of the characters of his favorite anime, InuYasha:

Kevin peaks through my class window to see his sister, Connie; because Kevin can't see through the window without jumping, we periodically see his head springing up and down. Kevin has the MOST ENORMOUS EARLOBES EVER! If Chinese superstition proves correct, he will grow up to be to be rich enough to pay for the US current account deficit, take over WalMart and Microsoft, and still have enough left over to buy a ridiculously over-priced dinner in West L.A.




Take a look at Kevin's earlobes. STUPENDOUS!

Like her younger brother, Connie Hsu uses a very particular voice inflection. It is, among all people I have met, distinct to them--so distinct is it, that people confuse their voices over the phone. At the end of every sentence, their words become drawn out and emerge slowly; their pitch drops carefully before making an equally unhurried ascent. After tedious deliberation, I dedicided that the closest thing to which I could liken it is...have you seen the movie American Pie? Actually, I haven't, but television promotion for that film abounds, so I know there is a female character who uses the lines "One time...at band camp..." That provides a fairly reasonable approximation to the drawl of the Hsu sibblings.

Before class one day, Sam wanted directions to Walnut High School; Connie proffered her services as an instruction giver since her residence is not far from the school. Here is (a fairly faithful) reprint of her directions: "Go straight. [We are inside the classroom; she indicates a forward direction with her arm.] Then, you have to turn right on a street somewhere. [She waves her right arm, bending vigorously at the elbow.] Then, when you get to another street, make a left. [Bends left arm at elbow.] You'll come to some railroad tracks, and you need to cross them. There will be some trees and a sign. Walnut high school is just beyond the trees and sign." Upon questioning from Connie the following week, Sam confessed that he (wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles) did indeed reach his destination.