My perception of students is not always 100% accurate. Students can be much more complicated and multidimensional than some teachers give them credit for. Thomas was a quiet boy with a Mona Lisa-like smile. He was always courteous and respectful, and seemed content to blend into the oblivious context of the classroom; but as the school year came to a close, he seemed to have a newfound confidence in himself and in the dynamics of the classroom environment. As we were approaching the last day of school, Tom coyly walked up to my desk and made a rather unusual request. “Mr. S, would you mind if I did an impersonation of you on the last day of school?” In retrospect, I’m surprised that I agreed to go along with Tom’s unusual request. After all, I was a young teacher, and I had to think about my professional image. Notwithstanding, this was an opportunity that I simply could not pass up. What could this timid boy have in mind? I was intrigued to say the least!
On the last day of class, Tom and I exchanged seats. He went on to do a masterful impression that brought tears of laughter to my eyes. It was like watching a miniature version of myself, and his satirical performance was accurate to a T. In my wildest dreams, I never could have imagined such a detailed portrayal of my mannerisms and idiosyncrasies. Tom’s impersonation of me was respectful and, at the same time, hilarious. His portrayal of my speech patterns and unconscious habits left us all laughing and loving every well-conceived detail. In my over 35 years in the classroom, no other student has ever requested or duplicated this feat.
Many years after this day, I encountered Tom as an adult on the steps of our local church. After a brief and sincere conversation, I reminded him of the impersonation that he did more than 25 years before. He told me that he remembered, vaguely. I wondered if he was perhaps too embarrassed to admit his recollection of the performance of a young boy back in the days of junior high. “Could it be that Tom had now returned to his timid and shy ways?” I wondered. He told me that he was now a seminarian and only a few short years away from ordination. I told him to please invite me when he came back to say his first mass and he assured me that he would. I thought to myself, “Imagine, Father Tom, a servant of God. I hope he includes a little humor in his sermons. We could certainly use it. Perhaps even a little anecdote now and then about the days of his youth. God bless him!”
Addendum: I did attend Tom’s first mass, and after it was over he blessed me. We spoke of the impersonation, once again, and he told me that he remembered the day vividly and that he was mortified. He has since been to my house for dinner and our recollection of that last day of school always helps to lighten up our conversation.
Postscript: They say that hindsight is 20/20. Well, I don’t know about that, but it certainly adds clarity and perspective. Tom’s request to temporarily replace his teacher and ascend to the front of the room was foreshadowing of things yet to come. Father Tom now addresses the class (his parishioners) from the altar. He uses his talents to interpret the words of the Lord and I am flattered to even think that he practiced for his vocation (not in the temple) but in a humble classroom. We should have wondered then what gave this young man the confidence and charisma to address his peers and elders. It is also somewhat ironic that our classroom (Room 136) was in the music wing of our school. Tom eventually went on to pursue his studies at the prestigious Juilliard School of Music. Perhaps it was here that he heard his true calling. God bless him and all of his wonderful work. Amen. Amen.