A Friend’s Umbrella
by Lawrence Raab"Ralph Waldo Emerson, toward the end
of his life, found the names
of familiar objects escaping him.
He wanted to say something about a window,
or a table, or a book on a table.
But the word wasn't there,
although other words could still suggest
the shape of what he meant.
Then someone, his wife perhaps,
would understand: "Yes, window! I'm sorry,
is there a draft?" He'd nod.
She'd rise."
This snippet of Raab's poem recalled an experience I had while teaching in Thailand. It was in the 6th grade class. The teacher was present and her English was excellent. These 6th graders included some very competent students. That day I was giving them words and phrases in Thai. Then the class, working as a group, would say in English what I'd just said in Thai. I thought I'd said "Go to the window" in Thai. The class exploded in laughter. Al, to teacher "What did I say?" Teacher "You said something naughty." Al "What?" Teacher "I can't tell you."
Guess what? I never tried to use that command again.
Takk for alt,
Al
The aforementioned 6th grade class with the teacher in the front row.
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