I'm sitting here listening to a student as he reads from F. Scott Fitzgerald's Winter Dreams -- a short story about a man obsessed with a woman. You know --the whole unrequited love idea. The other students follow in the book as he reads. He's a good reader and he reads with feeling and with skill. Why is he in summer school? Because he listens to the beat of a different drum -- quite literally -- he is a musician. What he is doing here in the summer school class filled with students whose IQ's do not even breach his numbers is probably a mystery to him. Yet, he takes this in stride and makes the most of it.
The other young people look to him as a leader -- someone smart, but his grades don't show it. I know it. I've seen his genius, he was on my newspaper staff. He will be a famous musician someday most likely, or one of those obscure ones playing for money in NYC, waiting for someone to appreciate their art. He has his own muse and listens to no one but that spirit.
The funny thing is, this talented amazing young man doesn't fit in with the school system. He cannot be pigeonholed by his scores or his grades. His grades are definitely not reflective of his ability. Yet the school looks at him as a problem, not a hope for the future.
Interesting day, interesting time we live in, isn't it.
posted on July 2, 2008 5:03 AM ()