“Max can dance,” a girl offered. The others nodded with looks that told me it was impressive. So I asked him if he would perform for my theater class. He shrugged in that way that meant sure, whatever, and we arranged the appointed time.
I still think of those simple words, “Max can dance.” They could not possibly have prepared me. In all fairness, I don’t think any words could have.
There is right now a viral video of a man who is an impressive dancer. I honestly think Max was better. He was a magician. Before my eyes his bones dissolved. He bent in places no human being should bend. His movement wasn’t fluid; he was fluid. He melted and become rubber and elastic and oozing syrup all at once. He was ragdoll, then puppet, then robot, then top. He defied gravity. He glided and floated and flew. He danced with his ears and pores and fingertips. Dance wasn’t something he did, but something he was.
And all the while there was a look of boredom on his face.
I sat dumbly while watching him, though I’m sure my mouth hung open. Because there just were no words. There still aren’t.
The thing with students is this. You always try to find good in them. Sometimes you find wonderful that you never forget, and that is how it was with Max.
He had something going on with his health. I never did find out what, but it made his eyes disturbingly yellow and it made him put his head down sometimes. When I would ask him if he needed to see the nurse, he’d tell me it wouldn’t do any good. He couldn’t go home because he had too many absences. If he missed anymore school, he wouldn’t graduate.
He graduated, and I have wondered about him since. Looked for him—on television, anywhere. Just now I Googled him. I never seem to find anything. I hope somewhere out there he knows. He is special. Many years and thousands of students later, even more so.
(Next week: Part VI)
When it is dark enough, you can see the stars. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
Thanks for sharing that story, Tammy. This time, it was a pleasant experience, instead of a scary one.
ReplyDeleteThat'd be cool if you did find him somewhere and hopefully a huge success!
ReplyDeleteWow, now that made me feel the extreme teacher in you. This is my favorite... so far. :)
ReplyDeleteJules @ Trying To Get Over The Rainbow
On the contrary, Tammy, I think your words brilliantly described this young man. I, too, hope he's found happiness and success with his chosen path in life.
ReplyDeletePat
Critter Alley
That student sounds much more talented than the kid I had who was urged to show me his special talent. He sat down on the floor, put his legs behind his head, and walked on his butt cheeks.
ReplyDeleteThis quote seems strangley appropriate for this talented young man and his struggles with his illness.
ReplyDelete"Anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain. ~Author Unknown"
Such an inspirational post. I hope he's doing well. Yellow eyes indicate liver/pancreas problems. To have been touched by him for such a brief time, and to witness the imapct he had on, others is a true joy.
ReplyDeleteInspiring! I hope he allowed others to see his talent as he did you. I hope you will find out what happened to him.
ReplyDeleteGreat story. I hope he was able to overcome his physical problems, and that you manage to track him down some day. No doubt he would appreciate you remembering him as a standout in the sea of students.
ReplyDelete