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2010DA001 I INITIATION Awake! the golden morn is here, The sun-rays brightly streaming. “The Golden Morn." For many men that stumble at the threshold Are well foretold that danger lurks within. “Henry VI, Part III." Rise up! rise up, Sir Pedagogue, I've fully dubbed thee knight; Now comes the hour to sally out The Dragon Ignorance to clout And Callow Minds enlight. Ergo Dogrul On September 3, 1929, in the warm rays of the morning sun, I walked down Grand River Street towards the Paris High School. There it lay before moa bleak, rectangular box, somehow resembling a factory or a jail, and throwing a long shadow over the front lawn and walk. Sweat began to ooze from the palms of my hands, and a multitude of shivers agitated my stomach. For a moment, fearing the unknown, I felt as though I must turn and hurry away. Yet at the same time I was eager to begin teaching -- to see whether I'd like it and be equal to the challenge. On the lawn near the north side-door, about 75 boys stood or sat in chattering groups; or, whooping and yelling, chased and jostled one another. And along the walk leading to the south-door, bright clusters of girls were talking and laughing. When I stepped up onto the walk leading to the front-door, suddenly the talking and laughing died away. All heads turned in my direction, and curious eyes appraised me. A short silence; then some masculine groans, and a sprinkling of female giggles and titters. Under this scrutiny, I felt as though my feet were encased in pails of concrete, or that I were heaving along ice-caked snow-shoes. As I moved interminably forward, the flight of steps seemed to recede like a mirage into the shadow.