Study to Be Quiet

In the school I work in there is rarely a time when there is silence. My kids, mostly African-American, urban are boisterous, just plain loud. I love their energy, especially when I can focus it. But, some days--fer chriseshakes, shut up!

Fly fishers all over for some reason revere Izaak Walton and his book "The Complete Angler." He didn't fly fish. He dunked worms in the deeper holes of English chalk streams. But, even now, late at night there is no silence here is the big small town of Saint Paul. Sirens keep blurring past. Some drunken ass screams at a street lamp. Neighbors have the strangest sounding sex I have ever heard. I like it better in the winter. The windows stay shut. It stays cool and it is much easier to sleep.

My people came almost entirely from Norway and Sweden. Some also came from Ireland--which I like to believe explains my drunkenness. The point is I don't deal well with Minnesota's new climate. As a Scandihoovian I also don't deal well with loud, talkative people. I am not uncomfortable with long spells of silence. My few friends are those that can sit with me while we enjoy each others company and not have the nagging need to converse. It is Ike Walton who said my favorite phrase, "Study to Be Quiet." Thoreau and Sigurd Olson also favored that phrase and was prominent thematically throughout their writings which I love so much.

Wednesdays are quiet reading days in my classroom. Friday nights are quiet fishing times in my life. I am eagerly awaiting the time when I can get North to a place so quiet I can hear my own heart beat. Until then in my classroom we will study.