I was in the middle of the presentations for my second-youngest turma today. Most of the groups had given decent reports of the material, with some small, well-made visual aids and a general knowledge of the material. Then, magic.
This one boy gets up - he always wears a uniform slightly lighter in color than the others, he's always got a half-smile on his face - a face that seems to flow right into his chest without any need for a neck - and he doesn't carry this awkwardness well - and he looks out at the class for a second. He starts by introducing the topic, and without a pause, doubt, or break in his presentation, tacks up a visual aid and with a ruler, points out every step of the process he's explaining so effortlessly and emotionally, that other students become utterly mesmerized. I had to tear myself away from listening to the pattern of his voice and the power of his presence long enough to observe the trance he had put his classmates into. I have never heard a room so silent.
He shifted from foot to foot as if he'd done it a thousand times - without pomp, without hamming it up, and explained for 5 minutes straight to a wowed audience. Everyone knew it when he had finished - it was clear that that was all there was to say on the subject - and he received a screaming, yelling round of applause.
Calmly, smiling, he took down his visual aid and walked back to his desk.
I feel like a turtle has popped out of his shell to show how miraculous life is, and then popped back in just to show you how you can miss all of it if you're not looking the right way.
Peace
John
