Hooked on classics

Twenty-five years and 1,600 miles ago, there were days I would recoil at the sight of Penny Cipolone. It was nothing personal, really, only that Magister Cipolone, being my high school Latin teacher, had the power to ruin an otherwise perfect day with a pop quiz on superlatives or a command that I translate on the spot.

Now, all I remember of that lively dead language can be summed up as follows: bo, bis, bit, bimus, bitus, bunt, and Villa est villa Romana.

Nonetheless, I find myself walking eagerly across the campus of Trinity University in San Antonio on a recent hot-as-Hades Saturday to embrace the woman who tried to teach me, via conjugation, the magic of organization - as well as its root word - perhaps before I was ready.

As current National Committee Chair of the 2003 National Junior Classical League (NJCL), Ms. Cipolone is here to oversee 1,300 students of Greek and Latin (plus 300 chaperons) immerse themselves in six days of classic language celebration and commemorate the 50th anniversary of the NJCL. (The organization, sponsored by the American Classical League, has nearly 50,000 members worldwide.)

"If you ever want to see anything strange in your life," Cipolone says, "watch kids in summer sitting down spending an hour and a half taking academic tests."

In fact, the kids don't just take the tests, they take them enthusiastically. Afterwards, they jockey for position among the herd gathered to search out their names and scores on long computer printouts the moment they are posted. Those who score in the Top 5 in such subjects as mottoes, grammar, mythology, and reading comprehension receive ribbons.

Robbie Robinson, a former JCL member who attended four conventions in high school and was president from 1988 to '89, still comes back every year. Now a professor of sociology and criminal justice at Towson University in Maryland, he is an active member of the Senior Classical League (SCL), which lends organizational support at the event.

Sweating heavily as he tapes up scores, Mr. Robinson explains why he continues to attend: "People here are amazing. The dedication is phenomenal. I have met people I would not have met in any other way, people who are unique and creative and fascinating."

Though he did not continue Latin in college, having that foundation bolstered his other studies. "It's helped me understand how to pick things apart logically," he says. "Latin is the first thing that ever taught me how to look at things from multiple points of view at the same time and really set me up to look at things thoroughly before I make a decision. You have to do that with translation."

D.J. Johnson approaches the wall of scores and announces, rather cheerfully, that he's really mad because he scored "only" sixth in the Greek derivatives test. The student of both Latin and Greek isn't really all that upset - he's just been elected second vice president for the 2003-2004 NJCL year. His main role will be to keep the flame of high spirits burning, not a difficult task given his assessment of Latin.

"It's the most wonderful language on the earth," Johnson gushes. "It's the basis of so many other languages - you have to go back to the place it all started to understand where we are now."

Ask a random high schooler not affiliated with JCL to guess the demographic here and odds are you'll receive an eye-rolling riposte. Which is to say Latin club has a reputation as breeding ground for geekus maximus.

But the students strolling this small red-brick campus are a diverse lot, with many races and both genders well represented, from all across the nation, united by a fierce enthusiasm. And their ranks are growing.

A recent Associated Press story finds that sales of Latin textbooks and materials are up, and elementary schools are starting programs. The number of students taking Advanced Placement exams in Latin is nearly double what it was a decade ago.

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