The twins set our morning ritual. Lately, I’ve been lucky enough to slip away around 6 and exercise. I get back around 6:30, and I change them while Nancy prepares their breakfast. After we feed them, we get a blanket out and put them on the floor to play. Usually, we are all rushing about trying to get ready for the day, but on Saturdays, I like to play on the floor with them.

On a recent Saturday, I was playing with them when suddenly I realized that I had George Strait on the stereo. Babies are babies, and the truth is that when you have twins, you are too busy to notice their color. But suddenly I was very aware that my African babies were being subjected to country music. I thought `I can’t help that I’m white, and I can’t help it that I’m old, but I will not train my babies to love country music; that would be TOO weird.’

So I ran to the stereo and removed the country music (truth be known, I was the one that had put it in) and replaced it with Diana Ross and the Supremes. This led to another unfortunate problem. I have this odd compulsion to try to dance whenever I hear the Supremes, and the fact that I am unable to dance never stops me. I was in the middle of doing `Stop in the name of love’ and noticed the looks on the twins; an interesting combination of morbid fascination and dread horror.

I pondered this until JT came to the rescue. `Don’t worry Dad. Matthew and I don’t like ANY of your music; why would the babies?’

I pondered whether this was depressing or reassuring, and decided it was both. And for me, coming out even means that I came out ahead.

We’ve been reading Midsummer’s Night Dream in English class, and it has surprised me in ways I never expected. One of my best friends was Puck in our high school production, and I recall attending mostly to cheer him on, but I didn’t read it until I was 19, and it was for a politics of Shakespeare class that could take the fun out of a kiss and a bowl of ice cream.

Rereading it was revelatory for me. It was funny! It could speak to eighth grade students where they lived! And it celebrated language it a way that could inspire budding writers to move beyond `whatever’ as an explanation for character development.

If, like me, you haven’t read it in awhile, what made it the most interesting is how it could speak to contemporary issues. One of the women in the play is named Helena, and she is so determined to be with a boy she tells him `I am your spaniel; beat me and I will fawn on you more.’ I asked the question `Is this a good role model for a young woman? Is this how you would like your sister to act?’ The resulting discussion was intense, and a look came over some of their eyes that I can’t quite explain, but I guess I would call it the flicker of understanding.

At one point, as we were reading the play out loud, one of the characters said something stupid, and the whole class erupted in laughter. As they looked at each other in a kind of astonishment, I felt the very occasional joy that occurs when a student gets excited about something you are trying to teach.

It was short lived, as I discovered that the play they wrote for the eighth grade formal was how they all had to pretend that they liked the play to make Mr. Peifer feel good, but how they were bored to death by it.

However, I saw their eyes and heard their laughter. I know better. But Shakespeare impacted me more than them; they say you need to keep growing and learning, but it is easy for me to get in a rut and keep doing the same thing. Getting back to Shakespeare has been a great reminder; there are benefits in getting out of your comfort zone and trying to keep learning. Being challenged to think about eternal themes, beautiful language, and challenging characters has been a wonderful thing for me, regardless of how the kids responded.

I was in charge of Saturday detention. Those students assigned detentions have to get up at 8:00am and come to where you assign them. You can assign them to study, or do cleaning, or whatever you want.

I had two tough Kenyan kids, and I thought, `What would be the ultimate deterrent?’ The solution was ingenious, if I don’t say so myself.

They had to follow me around and pick up trash on the campus.

While they were singing Neil Diamond songs.

At the top of their lungs.

What didn’t work is how into this the guys got. In my Surreal Moments in the Kenyan Hall of Fame, the top ten will surely include two Kenyan guys singing `Song Sung Blue’ at full volume.

With this in mind, I will make many of you happy by letting you know that Nancy will be in the states this summer to help celebrate her father’s 80th birthday. I will be here with the children.

And the Neil Diamond songs.

Your pal,

Steve Peifer