Odi et Amo...

At the end of my sophomore year in high school I had the dilemma of continuing my study of Spanish and take my fourth year of the language or explore another elective option.  I knew that I would be attending college after I graduated in two more years, so decided that Latin would be worth adding to my skill set.  I had also heard wonderful things about the Latin teacher, Mr. Robinson, so I registered for Latin 1-2 as my elective in my Junior year. 

Mr. James Cady Robinson was as phenomenal as promised - kind, considerate, humorous, supportive, inventive - he is still one of my inspirations as a teacher, and one of the reasons I am a teacher today.  My high school in San Diego was one of the few in the entire district that had a full and thriving Latin program, which was a testament to Mr. Robinson.  By the time my Senior year arrived, I was Mr. Robinson's teacher's assistant., Latin 3-4 student, and Vice-President of the Latin Club.

When Mr. Robinson retired in the mid-1990's my friends and I gathered in San Diego, flying in from states across the country, to take him and his wife out to lunch and express our gratitude to him and honor his influence on our lives.

In 1988, when I was a Senior in his class, he had surgery to replace a failing heart valve with a valve from a pig.  Typical of his jovial nature, he came back to us after he recovered from his surgery talking fondly of his new pig parts, and admitting his chagrin that he could not help himself from occasionally indulging in a meal of pork.  That pig valve lasted 20 years, until he succumbed to heart failure in February of 2008 at the age of 64. 

I admit that I can no longer conjugate Latin verbs with any ease, yet I still have a love of the English language and its Latin roots that was instilled in me by Mr. Robinson.  I also still accurately and with immediacy remember a poem that Mr. Robinson taught us the first week of Latin over twenty years ago.

Odi Et Amo, by Catullus

Odi et amo. Quare id faciam fortasse requiris?
      Nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.

 

 

I like to begin each school year thinking of Mr. Robinson and the thousands of lives that he affected as a teacher, and how lucky I am that I was one of his students.

 

 If you want, ask me what the poem means, I still remember that too.