Today, the atmosphere at school was different from usual; it was more somber, to the point of being stifling.

A teacher has died.

He passed away on Friday of a heart attack, after a basketball game. I heard about it from my school's online news and from talk around campus - I wasn't there and I don't know the details. In one way, it's really jolting. He'd been plenty alive just a few months ago. I only remember one thing about him, and that was when we were taking a survey in the cafeteria. (Ha! The only time I get to sit in the cafeteria is during PE CLASS. I never actually eat in there. There are a few people who do, but most of us are outside, rain or shine.) He'd been barking at us, something about putting down the pens, or passing up the papers...I don't remember clearly.

I wish I had something else to remember about him. But I don't. And I never will.

It's startling in another way, too, to think that someone who was there one day would be gone, dead, so quickly. It wasn't like cancer or some slow terminal illness where you could see him weakening by the day. No, it was just like that. So fast. It takes so long for people to truly live, do more than just exist. Yet it can be taking away so quickly.

And at the same time, somehow I wasn't surprised. I almost feel as if I'd expected it to happen. I'd known since late 2010 that once my guidance counselor, who'd been on maternity leave, came back, then the lady substituting for my counselor would take over as a PE teacher (the teacher who died was only teaching for the first semester this year; I don't know why, maybe one of his students does), which was a little funny because the substitute counselor/new PE teacher is now pregnant herself. (And that was sudden too. I hadn't realized she was pregnant until she said so recently.) Not knowing why the teacher was not going to teach PE anymore, I wondered if perhaps he was planning to go away...But I didn't think that death would be his vehicle.

In fact, I HAVE seen a similar thing happen before, with my fourth grade teacher. I don't remember too much about her anymore, just that she had short blonde hair, was sometimes in a pretty bad mood, and had a jar of butterscotch candies to give out as a reward. She got injured a couple of times - one time I think a box fell onto her face and she wore sunglasses to cover up the bruise. The last time I saw her was on the day of our field trip to a museum. I thought she'd seemed fine.

After that, she was gone. And I later found out that she had died. The school never told us why exactly she died. Some students came up with all sorts of ideas. I recall that one classmate of mine said that perhaps her boyfriend had murdered her. I know nothing. Just that she is dead.

So the recent death of that teacher makes me feel queasy. I wonder a little if I might've caused in some way. A lot of things in my life have followed cycles. Is it an odd coincidence? Was it all predetermined? Have I, by speculating, actually set things in motion? Am I just reading into it too much? This isn't an anime. I'm not Haruhi Suzumiya.

Or am I?

Labels: cafeteria, cycle, death, deja vu, fate, health, heart attack, illness, memories, PE class, sick, survey, teacher, thoughts

The book I just read and the book I'm reading now are both similar and different at the same time. I'll start off with the differences.

THE QUEEN'S SOPRANO by Carol Dines
- A girl named Angelica Voglia living in Rome. She has a wonderful singing voice.
- She wants to be able to sing freely, but the pope has forbidden women to sing in public. She has fallen in love with a French artist named Theodon. But her mother dreams of riches and a luxurious life, so she tries to marry her daughter off to a noble.
- In order to escape her fate, she pretends to be going along with her mother's plan but then moves to the palace of Queen Christina, who rules one of the two quarters not dominated by the Pope. She becomes a singer for the Queen.
- The man who was going to marry Angelica was very upset, thinking that Angelica's mother had lied to him. He punished the Voglia family by slicing the cheeks of Angelica's father and cutting off the ear of Angelica's brother. After the incident Angelica's mother wanted nothing to do with Angelica. Eventually she descended into madness.

SISTERS IN SANITY by Gayle Forman
- Brit Hemphill, who lives with her father, stepmother, and baby brother, is sent to a center that is supposed to provide therapy to girls with problems (drug abuse, depression, even being overweight). At the place there is terrible food, cameras to spy on you, and you can't complain to your parents about the camp (in fact, you have to reach a certain "level" before you're even allowed to write letters to anyone).
- Brit starts to suspect that the reason why she was sent away (she doesn't really have any major problems; despite being a musician, she is not into drugs) is that she is similar to her mother and her father fears the same thing that happened to her mother will happen to her. They used to live together as one happy family, but then her mother developed mental problems. She refused treatment. Eventually she ran off and they haven't seen her since.

It's kind of spooky that I unintentionally selected two books on the same day at the library that both have mothers who go insane. Is it some weird talent or is it just a coincidence?

Labels: abuse, books, carol dines, coincidence, family, fate, gayle forman, history, insane, italy, mental, rome, singing, sisters in sanity, the queen's soprano, therapy

Today's homework was to write a poem about ourselves. The poem started and ended with "I am -namegoeshere-." In the poem there are eight other lines. Four of those lines are true things about ourselves and the other four are lies. I thought it was interesting that my teacher wanted us to write lies about ourselves. Was it for fun, so we could pick out which parts were right and which parts were false?

I've never been much of a poet myself, I'm afraid. When I was young I tried my hand at writing a poem. I think I still have it tucked away in a notebook. Now that I look back at it, the poem seems rather meaningless and rough. I guess that things always look different when time passes, though. Drawings that seemed good to me when I was younger just look funny when I get older. And seeing pictures of myself a few years ago, I think, "Wow, I looked really different then." (But after a while I always looked similar in the pictures. I suppose it means I'm getting old.)

Sometimes I wonder if it's better to always tell the truth or if it's okay to lie sometimes. Most of the time telling the truth is the better thing to do - it shows you have integrity, and people who lie tend to get found out anyways (unless they're good at lying. I mean, I heard all the best thieves are never caught).

But telling the truth can be a harsh thing. Sometimes this happens to me, or I see it with other people... A person asks their friends, "Do you like my ____?" or says, "My drawing is so terrible!" And their friends would just say they liked it or that their drawing was bad right away. I wonder if they really mean it or if they're like me...Sometimes, even if I don't really think as highly of something as the person asking me does, I just say "It's nice" or something like that anyways. I figure they'd be offended if I say "I'm not really that fond of it." I don't want to hurt their feelings, so I just pick the safe choice and pretend.

But how much longer can this go on? How much longer until it all unravels? I can't always live my life like this, can I? And yet speaking my mind could be costly too. I don't know what I would rather do.

There's also a different situation, one I haven't come across yet, but still a possible one. Say there is a person who actually has some health problems. In fact, they have a terminal illness, but they don't know it - but some people close to them know. The person would become depressed and listless if they found out about it, but as long as they think they're not going to die soon they are able to live their life happily and blithely. Do you think they should know because they deserve to know their own fate? Or should the truth be hidden from the person so they can enjoy what life they have left?

Anyways, on to a different topic... Today in PE class, my PE teacher spoke to us about a girl who has one of the school records for triple jump. She is still in the school (in fact, she is in my grade). The teacher said, "I've heard a few people suggesting she's been using steroids. That's not true at all. She trains really hard every day with a professional coach, and worked to make her legs and body strong. Don't say that she's been cheating and taking the easy way out by using steroids. She has really good work ethic. I think people who are saying that she uses steroids are just jealous. And yeah, it makes sense to be jealous, but you can just say, 'Wow, she's good.' You don't need to mention steroids."

There are some athletes out there, such as a few baseball players, who use steroids. Some folks think that athletes who have used steroids should be taken out of the Hall of Fame or whatever records they got into. My PE teacher had an idea for it...He said he should leave both the records of people who used steroids and those who didn't in the records, but that the people who used steroids would get a * next to their name. I think that's a pretty good idea. That way everyone will get credit, but people who decided to use steroids would have some shame. I think it's only fair. If you do something dishonorable, you have to pay the consequences. (I believe in poetic justice. But it's not always dealt like that in life.)

Labels: athlete, baseball, death, fate, friends, happiness, innocence, justice, lie, life, opinion, PE class, picture, poem, pretend, record, steroids, thief, time, truth

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