Sybil hated charades like homecoming and the senior prom. “Scripted play-acting” she called it. It was an unneccesary pause en route to her future stardom. We used to giggle in the back rows at pep rallies. We felt separated, even above the crowd, looking downward. From that perspective, seeing the mechanized movements of supposedly unique and soon-to-be independent souls can give you a sickening feeling. We were like stoned(we weren’t) scientists(we were) chuckling at the “silly rats”.
The one day I forgot my backpack(Dad would have gone bullshit had he known that detail), Sybil convinced me to cut class in an old room down an abandoned hallway beneath the auditorium. She decided to hold her own class that day with a one-to-one student-to-teacher ratio wherein she easily transitioned from a dry lecture on “the success of Jay Z/the failure of the guitar” to a moving piece called, “philosopher idiots, useful scholars, both” by writing a Jay Z quote on the wall, “Is pious pious cause god loves pious?/Socrates asks Whose bias do Y’all seek?”
end pt 1