So I am confronted by absurdities.

The most awkward of my students--breath stinky, nose with viscous-snot-gummy, hair mishighlighted and mistipped, color coordination from the one-eyed bats, low self-esteem, cantankerous, unproductive, slow-witted--has submitted to me a recommendation letter to write for her application to Choate. Shit.

Her inchoate (heehee) sense of self would not be well-served by mingling with whitey. So I find myself saying things like, "Your [black, street] behavior would not be appreciate by your [white, or at least upper-classed, genteel, soft, bujii] classmates at [white] Choate." We must remember, after all, that the need to lift up some blacks should not be confused with an actual commitment to the welfare of human beings. Of course, it's not that Choate is evil (of course not, Bessie), it's just that at one point a certain math camping Queerfoot was teaching there, and it's just another universe. Or in the words of Barry Mazur, I doubt that my student could build a bridge between those two worlds... those two worlds are on different planets!!!

But I suppose we are all permitted our escapisms.

Oh, yes. In a violence prevention seminar we are asked to "Diffuse tense situations."