A Meeting of the Minds

In reading Latin, it is terribly important to think like a Roman. Latin speakers used word endings instead of word order to determine syntactic functions. As a result, one has to be able to identify words quickly by part of speech and often to use the word's ending to determine whether it is a subject, direct object, or some sort of adverbial modifier disguised as a noun and lacking the comfortable familiarity of the prepositions with which English abounds.

This process has to be modeled, and that was why I had written a neat little sentence core--two underlines with the words "subject" and "verb" scrawled underneath them--for students to fill in and thereby practice reading Latin correctly. When one stumbles over a nominative, one places the English equivalent of that word in the "subject" slot. When one bumps against an ablative, one mentally spins a giant wheel o' prepositions, combines the result with the English equivalent of the noun, and tapes it haphazardly to the end of the sentence.

At least, that's an acceptable starting point. At any rate, the students had given it their best shot, and it was time to walk through it with them. I asked my first target, "What is the first word?" "Quinto," he replied. "Right! What case is it?" "Could be ablative or dative, but it's probably dative because it's an animate noun." "Right! So let's translate it as 'to or for Quintus' and put it at the end." I turned to write this on the board, thus opening the door to or for trouble.

I turned around. One of the students now had a paper mustache taped onto his face. Undeterred, I asked a second pupil, "What is the second word?" "Marcus," came the answer. "Right! What case is it?" "Nominative; it's the subject." "Exactly, so let's right it in the subject slot."

Again I turned, wrote on the board, and turned back. Another student had taped a paper soul patch onto his face. Nevertheless, I trekked bravely on. "Next word?" "Clamavit!" "Part of speech?" "Verb!" "Tense?" "Perfect!" "Good! What's the translation?" "'He shouted!'" "Great, but we already have a subject, so we'll omit 'he' and write 'shouted' in the verb slot. Now, there's a period next, so--" and when I turned back around, the rest of the class had freshly donned facial hair.

There was a moment of silence as the competing forces in the room battled for final supremacy. Finally, one of the students asked, "Mr. Breen, do you want a mustache?" I gazed upon the class with narrowed eyes, pondering how to respond to this intrusion upon my carefully constructed lesson. Without altering my expression, I let out a gruff "Yes" and held out my hand.

In teaching Latin, it is terribly important to think like an eighth grader.