oh, no: not i

as if to make my words prophetic as well as overdrawn, we again raised a flag around and placed upon our beaming M, now four years old, a crown. that the process today was identical, save the subject sitting in the sheet-draped chair, to yesterday's seemed to raise the level of mirth rather than dampen it. we won't store the decoratory equipment in its box for long, but at least we've finished with singing in two languages for a while.

on that note, though E and M will not be in attendance—tomorrow holds the first of my engleski classes at NB with the five and six year old sets, on Wednesdays and Fridays, respectively. the terror refuses to leave the depths of my heart, has spread to the tips of my ears, and is, sadly, unrelated to the physical being of either the task at hand or the wriggling learners at knee. how can i teach something in which i haven't faith myself, this birthright i would exchange, could i do so with life in my grasp? how can i speak with authority its words, when all i can manage is fleeting existence, somehow (i know not how), and absolute explanatory powerlessness? how can i choose words without evoking an entire, multi-national history, of which none of the nations are fully mine?

now, class, repeat after me: this language will serve me well in the world, especially as i grow and seek my fortune where it may be found, but it is and ever shall be that of a distasteful and abhorrent hegemony. we shall begin with guilt and introductions. next week we may be ready to tackle colours, days of the week, and animals.