Ode to Paco...

...or, Why a Class of 20-somethings has a Big Fat Crush on a Middle-Aged Lit Professor With Funky Teeth and Two Sets of Eyeglasses

(Please note, this will not be in poem form at all.)

Oh, Paco, I was skeptical at first. The first week or so of class was pretty dry as we waded our way through lectures on the Renaissance and tried to decipher La Celestina. Yes, yes, I was aware of your reputation: your classes were not to be missed, you are one of the most prominent Cervantistas in the world, yadda yadda yadda. I was BORED.

But then, things began to change. The way you passionately explain how La Celestina was ahead of its time. How it's Marxist and Machiavellian themes are una MARAVIIIIIILLAAAAAAA. The way you yell at us when we're taking notes, "¡Mirenme! No apunten!" The many ways in which you give away your feminist side. (Yes, I agree that we need more age-appropriate words for lady bits, but what does this have to do with classic Spanish literature?) The fact that you admit that having 2 PhDs is not a useful skill.

I understand now what people were talking about. Why many students use usted instead of tú when speaking to you. Why, when you walk into the room and say good morning, everyone stops talking and responds. You may be awkward and sort of funny-looking, but boy do you have something.

The other morning, when you walked in and, just like every morning, said, "Buenos días. ¿Cómo estáis?" my female classmate leaned over and whispered, "Better now that you're here." Word.