Theoracism

“The root of Latin can be traced back to the Roman power system’s inclusion in a place called Latium. Though some consider it a dead language, it lives on in numerous English words and other Romantic languages.”

The classroom looked on as the teacher, Nidal Kaur, an Indian man in his early thirties, walked from one side of the huge tablet. He tapped the screen a few times. A surge of texts sprang upon the board like a river gushing forth. Latin words like ex libris and homo sapien jumped out and hovered around in bubbles. The twelfth grade class hung onto Kaur’s every word. Their tablets lit up along with their faces. This brought great joy to Kaur.

“These words are still used within our English language. Find different examples that crop up in speech for homework. I reccomend in law, for example.”

The screens went blank, and the bell chimed for the end of the school day. As the children filed out of the room, Kaur went to his desk and read a message he received.

“Greetings, Mr. Kaur. For your Twelfth Grade Advanced Placement Latin curriculum, the Board is directing you to include African American Vernacular English (AAVE) formally known as Ebonics. It will have to coincide with your teaching of Latin studies according to the new guidelines. If you have any questions or comments—” The message listed a department name and number, but he was too disgusted. He nearly damaged his tablet, swiping to hide the offensive message from view. He dialed his wife.

“I think I’m quitting,” Kaur said.

“What are we talking about?” his wife Kajal asked, with a little chuckle.

“I’m serious, Kaj. They want me to implement Ebonics in an AP Latin class.”

“Damn.”

“Exactly. I’m so pissed right now.”

“It’s a private school. You’ll be able to fight it I’m sure. What about your drinking buddies?” Kaur and several of his colleagues had been meeting weekly at Herb’s, their local hangout, to commiserate about the new guidelines and edicts coming from the Board regarding woke curriculum changes and additions.

“Can’t you all gang up on ‘the Man’ and fight the power?”

“Ha-ha. We’re not ready. We need to be more organized than we are at the moment. It’s like they have a hold on every aspect of school life for both teachers and the kids,” Kaur said.

“Don’t worry about it too much. The kids still ‘ain’t know nothin’ about, writ of habeas corpus!” Kajal joked.

“I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but I’m aggravated. All our hands are tied. The Board has spoken….”

“If it means anything, just skip over the AAVE, I hate even saying it, and teach Latin. That’s what’s paying for the European sedan I am sitting in comfortably right now. Also the house, and our own kids’ education. So be like those African American slaves in the deep South, who knew routes to go North, but acted like they knew nothing but a word.”

“That’s comforting, Kaj. Can you give me a second?” He looked from the phone to see a student standing before him. “Yes, Myson?”

“Mr. Kaur, I spoke with Mrs. Harris about your meetings. I didn’t mean to overhear—”

Kaur put a hand in the air in front of Myson’s face.

“Let me call you back, Honey,” he said, quickly ending the call.

“So you know?”

“Yes.”

“This curriculum doesn’t need anything but Latin, and definitely not a language that isn’t one,” Myson said. “A few of us students have tried joining your meet-up with the other teachers at Herb’s, but we’re not allowed because we’re underage.”

“I didn’t realize students wanted in on this; who else knows about this?”

Myson shrugged. “I can’t say, but I’m going to go on social media and round up students because many are frustrated about the changes the school has made lately. I won’t even expose you or the other teachers. You all choose who you want to be there.”

“I’m glad to know there are student allies.”

“Indeed,” said Myson and turned around and left the classroom.