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"We shall not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time."
-T.S. Eliot

We're back. A long but happy school day of riding airplanes, and students are sleeping in their own beds. They are almost certainly different people now.

Altogether, the group took over 5,000 pictures. There are a number of students who are planning to study abroad in college. Dajeh wants to live in Rome. On our last night, Vladimir--who has been quiet for much of the trip--summarized:

"We've known since 6th grade that education opens doors, to college, and to making money. But this trip has helped me to know that it opens many more doors than that. I see things in a new way."

Thank you for travelling with me and Vladimir and the rest of the group. When we return to school on Monday, the group will begin assembling a documentary based from the hours of video they've shot. I'll post the video to this blog.

We are so fortunate to have had this opportunity, and I look forward to sharing more stories in person, in the coming months.

Our Last Day

Today we Visited Ostia. Ostia is an amazingly preserved Roman port city, similar to Pompeii, but more working class. We toured the baths, admired beautiful mosaic floors, and vogued in the ancient theater. As Tiffany and I went back in search of a lost umbrella, we mused about how the ruin might have looked two thousand years ago.

Tonight we pack, and many of the students are feeling blue.

Off the Beaten Path

Today, the group from JMW Arts and our tour guide traveled to Florence, leaving us with a free day in Rome. Most of the touristy sites in Rome are closed on Mondays, so we were really left to our own devices.

We took a chance on the Borghese Gardens. Neither our tour guide nor our gudebook could tell us much. But we intrepidly picked up sandwiches and bottles of water and marched into the park.

We had a blast. We ate our picnic on a log. We rented and raced 4-person rickshaws. We visited the zoo.

Afterwards we stepped into a cafe for antipasti. Briantey had her first cappuccino. When she said she was going to name her children, "Pied," and, "Aterre," we cut her off.

Meals

The typical American teenager survives on a startling diet of trash. Many BPCPS students-including star athletes-consume a large percentage of their calories as Doritos. Students take comfort in pre-packaged food. I observed one especially skittish student try a pastry like this: First, she smelled it, thoroughly, in the manner of a dog sniffing a piece of strange meat. Then, she poked her finger in through a corner, and peered inside the hole. Finally, she rolled back her lips, and, with bared teeth, bit off a tiny flake.

Needless to say, the Italian way of eating has been really eye-opening for these kids. Many have never sat at a table for so long. One learned to properly hold a knife and fork. One complained: "My stomach can't digest all this unprocessed food!" (Especially salad.)

Just recently on this trip, students have begun adopting more cosmopolitan attitudes. I watched a lengthy speculative conversation about the ingredients in that night's pasta. They're identifying their favorite gelati, and learning that it's cheaper to eat standing at the bar than sitting down. Yesterday, Donovan adopted one of my favorite strategies: he bought something unfamiliar (a delicately fried ball of meat and vegetables) just because it looked good.

I don't know exactly how these new attitudes fit into our school's system of virtues, but they seem important nonetheless.

Modern Day Gladiators

We typically discourage violence at Boston Prep.

On Top

This requires a little background on Kadian. Since 6th grade, Kadian has been one of the shyest, quietest members of her class. When she enrolled, it took the school months to correct a spelling error in her recorded last name: she just never told anyone the weekly progress report was incorrect. In the 9th grade, she positively refused to attend an overnight retreat with members of her class.

Over the years, Kadian has made a concerted effort to come out of her shell. She raises her hand more in class. She initiates conversations in the cafeteria. And of course, she ultimately agreed to spend a week in Rome.

Anyway, this afternoon we hit a low point at lunch. The group had been dragging. When we entered the cafeteria, they flopped into cafeteria seats. Jackets and hats were on. (I've forbidden this in restaurants.) I was tired of pulling teeth and got very white in the face:

"You feel like this because you did not sleep last night. Tonight, you need to go to sleep at bedtime. Now SIT UP!"

We grudgingly consumed our lunches.

The afternoon offered four free hours. We were a 30-minute walk from our evening's destination, but we had nothing programmed for the remaining time. We were still near St. Peter's. I made a suggestion, with the caveat that we'd only do it with universal agreement:

We could climb to the cupola on top of the church. Characterized by our gude as the best view in Rome, the guide also warns:

"The staircase actually winds between the outer wall and the inner one. It's a sweaty, crowded, clausterphobic 15-minute, 323 step climb."

Before I caught my breath, Kadian raised her hand and said something. I misunderstood, and responded, "that's right. CLAUSTERPHOBIC." She replied a little louder: "No. I said I'll do it!"

We went around the circle, and one by one, kids said, "yes," or raised hands, or simply nodded. And the group was changed.

We spent 90 minutes in line happily discussing college and careers and BPCPS history. Then we spent half an hour climbing between the walls. When we emerged-thirty stories high, winded and smiling, Dania exclaimed, "I want to stay here forever!"

The rest of the afternoon was a celebratory stroll along the Tiber. Students learned to haggle with street vendors and played with a mime, and sat up very straight at dinner.

Perhaps the happiest afternoon I've had with teenagers, in a very long time.

The Vatican

Many of our students are very religious; most spend a big part of every weekend in church.

Today we visited the Vatican. Gabrielle and I tried to pick out the Bible stories on the walls and ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. As we entered Saint Peter's, Kadian turned to me and said, "I'm a Seventh Day Adventist. It's Saturday and I'm back in church!"