JULY 19, 2015 // ST. THOMAS
SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA
Thomas was my student in the elementary school where I worked as a roving site substitute. He was also a student at the unofficially Russian, Saturday mathematics program where I worked. Many of the students there were of Russian descent, as was the leader of the program. The Russian factor was of interest primarily to me, and not something they advertised at all. I knew myself to be Russian, but did not grow up immersed in a culture of immigrants from there. Both Thomas, and Nellie the lead teacher, each in their own way, attempted to gently disabuse me of my romantic conception of the land they’d left behind. It wasn’t Russia itself I was missing though. It was Russians. Particularly at the time during which we were in each other’s lives, I needed a family. I don’t know how they did it so well, or even if they were conscious of it, but they provided a sense of family for me.
I knew Thomas, and worked with him over a period spanning from 2011 - 2015. He is a brilliant person, and very funny. I don’t think I’ve encountered such a unique and powerful sense of humor in another person so young. He was also difficult for some teachers to handle. I found a kinship with him though, and really enjoyed teaching him, although, I’m not sure I taught him anything. He was better at mathematics than I. We played chess after he’d finish his work early. If he was too hyper, and distracting other students, I’d let him take my phone into an empty, adjoining room, and record stream of consciousness comedy sets. Once in the middle of a bout of screaming radio play style sound effects he said “Jesus Christ has cancer. He’s going to outer space and never coming back.”
I think he saw that I respected him. That I valued creative thinking and humor. That I was not thrown off course by the superficially inappropriate. That I was proud of our Russian heritage. That I loved reptiles and amphibians. He had several exotic frogs that he brought to school one time. His teacher that day was my friend Inna. She arranged so that I could leave the class room where I was teaching and watch Thomas give his frog presentation.
I ran into Thomas and his mother on the evening pictured above walking a long the sea wall near my home on the northern end of Ocean Beach. I would be moving away from San Francisco, and this chapter of my life in less than a month. She took the photo of Thomas and I. I was weary and bedraggled. It had been a rough three years or so. Thomas looks confident and proud, and he seems to fully understand the context and occasion for the photo the same way the sunset does. I’ve never seen him again.