I'm often surprised by the sterling good sense of most of the young people I teach. When I try and remember the details of being seventeen the strongest emotion I feel is one of embarrassment. In fact, I find it very hard to recall coherent details, which is a sure sign of repression.
Oddly enough today I found myself getting most closely in touch with my younger self by listening to The Decembrists' gorgeous Lake Song. I never went near a lake at that age but I was certainly terminally fey. Isn't it strange how we can so easily project ourselves into that which wasn't and isn't ours - but feels as if it should be?
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