“We’ve ended a bit early, so I suppose we might take a few minutes to discuss that now, though we don’t do that as a matter of course.” My voice sounded harsh and constricted in my ears. “I think your talk this morning presented some particular challenges for those who opt to study Latin. For example, if you believe it is so narrowing and irrelevant to your experience to study this language, what brought you to this class?”

His bravado faded for a moment, and his voice was husky as he answered, “My brother took it at his school. And I didn’t say it was … what did you say, ‘narrowing’ … I said only taking that, only sticking with what you know … that’s stupid. I came here so I wouldn’t do that. And turns out, it’s not that different. People never want to get out of the box.”

At this, he looked directly at me. Needless to say, I did not respond directly but spoke to the class as a whole. “I think perhaps that you are selling the traditions of this school a little short, Mr. Bryson. Any other thoughts, gentlemen?”

“Well, I don’t really see what’s wrong with the school now,” said Josh Bernstein. “I mean, they take the people who pass the test, right?”

Bryson took his eyes from mine for a moment. “Yeah, man, but who gets to take the test? Who even gets to know about this school? Not the brothers where I come from. And a lot of them are smart enough to come here.” He paused. “I mean, look at Mr. Washington here. Would you say that he isn’t qualified to teach what he’s teaching? He obviously passed the test.” He looked back at me, his eyes flat and glittering.

I’d obviously passed the test. The words hit me like separate daggers, sharp and individual. It was clearly a moment for me to speak. Every boy in the class focused his gaze on me. The words of the former head of this department danced through my mind. I didn’t want you here anyway. Too many of your kind agitating as it is. “I suppose I have,” I said after a while. “But not without great effort and great struggle. I’ve earned whatever I have.”

Bryson regarded me coolly. “With no help?”

“None that was unwarranted. None that I did not make some effort to be worthy of. None that I treated with contempt.”

I looked at my watch. The period, mercifully, was over. “It’s time for your next class, gentlemen. I will see you tomorrow.”

The students filed out, some darting quick looks at me or at Bryson as they left. Bryson walked past my desk, paused, and looked directly at me, his eyes like coal—black and fathomless. “See you at practice, Mr. W.” I simply nodded, unable to speak.