The Boys

The boys in senior English class, top row from
left: Jack Steenson, Gabe Guerrero, Victor
Castellanos, Jack Hulinsky, Sam Mueller, Angel
Sotelo, Zenon Sack, Hunter Borges. Bottom row
from left: Florian Leicht, Damian Glass,
Nico Kiewald

I looked up from taking roll the other day and noticed Zenon Sack and Jack Hulinsky. I can't say what it was about those boys that suddenly filled me with happiness. 

Maybe it was the way they laughed and talked easily as old friends do. Or maybe it was simply the way they enjoyed each other so much.

I only know that on a cold, dreary morning with biting March winds, those two boys made me happy. 

John and I are always amazed at the way our Central Catholic kids form such enduring friendships. Many of them remain friends the rest of their days. They consistently call, text, message, take trips and nurture each other through divorce, sickness and death. It's when we meet again at, God forbid, funerals of parents or classmates, that we see how important their Central Catholic years have become. These kids pretty much grow up together, and like our senior boys now, some of them have known each other since grade school. 

Maybe that's what's held this current class of senior boys so tight. Many of them have been together all their lives and still love to share stories of their elementary school adventures. That they share those stories with me in their writing is a gift, pure and simple. As they remember those early days together, they become comfortable sharing other parts of their lives. Hunter always remembers the death of his grandfather. Victor thinks he may have a priestly vocation but likes girls too much. Damian loves and is grateful for the wonderful grandparents who raised him. Gabe, who pretends he's tough as nails, still grieves for his friend Luis who died tragically when they were freshmen. And Jack Steenson, one day in class, admitted that the one thing that always makes him smile is an old, happily married couple holding hands.

The newbies to the class are the "foreigners", as we like to call them. German exchange students Niko and Florian only arrived this year but somehow have enmeshed themselves into the hard-won favor of the senior boys with their humor and light-heartedness. 

"I need explicit instructions!" Niko complains every day as he grapples with an assignment. 

He never gets any sympathy. The senior boys only groan and refuse to listen. 

"Figure it out, German boy!" Sam Mueller always rebukes him.

My husband told me that only the other day Angel Sotelo, another senior boy in my senior Engish class, came quietly to his desk before history class to ask a question.

Angel

"Mr. Howard," Angel said very seriously, "what's your best pickup line for girls?"

Really, who better to ask for dating advice than my 70-year-old stoop-shouldered husband?

"Let's see," John pretended to ponder his great expertise in this area.

"How about this," he suggested: 'Why, hello. My name is Angel.' "

Is it only me, or does that seem Hannibal Lector creepy?

For the record, I told Angel later, he should have asked me. I'm female, after all, and I know what girls like. 

Here's a sure fire winner:

"Here I am. What are your other two wishes?"

How about this? "I hope you know CPR because you just took my breath away."

Or even this: "Are you a parking ticket? Because you've got 'fine' written all over you."

Okay, so they're not great. But that business about "Why hello, my name is Angel" is going nowhere. On second thought, I suppose it worked on me 40 years ago. 

I've taught most of these boys since they were 13-years-old. Like a parent or grandparent, I've loved watching them grapple with changing voices, first driver's tests, homecoming dates and college scholarships. Most of all, I've loved watching their life-long friendships grow. 

May they always turn to each to other in the years to come - through marriage and babies and sickness and death.

And, please God, may they master at least one good pickup line.