autodidacticism

Picture it. It’s the fall of 1985. I am in my first language class ever. It’s the beginning course, and the teacher is Larry Simmons.

About ten minutes into the first class, he tells us that we will never speak English again during class. And he means it. He conducts the entire class in French. I am excited and terrified. I liked French. I did not yet know about James Baldwin and them going to Paris to live. I just knew something in me was stirred.
We were to call Larry “Laurent.” If you spoke English, you had to put money in a jar. I still wonder what he did with all those coins. If you had one of those tiny pencils, he would sn**ch it up, throw it out the window, and shout, “Oiseau!” That is how I learned to say ‘bird’ in French.

During those first few weeks, I was completely lost. Even though my name was André, I was convinced my French name must be “Devoirs.” Larry kept pointing at me and demanding, “Où sont tes devoirs?” Someone finally told me that ‘devoirs’ meant ‘homework’.

But Larry was more than a French teacher. He was a mentor in ways that didn’t need to be spoken. I was fourteen. I did not yet know who or what I was. Larry could sense a tender soul. He surrounded me with support and love. He would see me at the bus stop and offer a ride home. We would talk about life, French class, and silly things.
And I hate that I feel the need to say this, but this is the world we live in now. He was never inappropriate. He was a proper and powerful mentor.

I remember him talking about his partner, their lives, and their travels. I don’t recall whether he used the word’ husband’. It was the 80s. They were an example of happy people in a happy relationship. I listened in awe as he described a world I could barely imagine. Larry saw something in me and stepped in as a mentor in ways I did not even know I needed.

I finally made it to Paris last February. I walked the streets and yelled, “Bonjour, Laurent!” I knew he would be proud that I finally made it.
We lost Larry this past February.

Rest on, Laurent.

You meant so much to so very many.