Three is better than four

About four months ago this idea came up that we would visit Senora Brown’s house in the middle of the night.

When I say we, I mean our Spanish 7-8 class.

And when I say Senora Brown, I mean the fun-loving, sometimes crotchety, rattlesnake killing, alien loving, mullet having, beloved teacher that taught us the language of Spanish for the last four years.

You have to understand that this Spanish class is not a normal Spanish class.

Some of our more notable accomplishments have included:

- attending a voluntary salsa dancing festival 2 1/2 hrs away

- creating an official class power ranking system

- producing perhaps the greatest movie ever made my high school students.

- two movies actually, one wasn’t enough.

In fact, words could probably never express the events that took place in Room 413 that second semester of senior year. Our days were filled with Spanish Scrabble, macarenas, reenacting crime scenes, endless presentations on our arbitrary ideas, always getting sidetracked, obscure movies relating to the north, slipping anuses, listening to War of the Worlds if only to fulfill Sra’s obsession with aliens. Words could not express the jokes that strung out far more than it made sense to string out and the friendships that were formed that year. From our class hangout to the last day when made Senora cry, I think for most of us it really made our senior year.

Of course, when we set out to do something of this magnitude, we always follow through.

Even if it is two months after school is out.

We had figured out where our teacher lived months ago, thanks to an elaborate algorithm.

Unfortunately for us, Senora Brown practically lives in Egypt.

Last night we finally executed our 11380 plan.

Or as Hiren and Nikil called it, Operation Brown Down.

Not our most attractive picture...

We left her a briefcase with the combination: 011380. In it contained our second DVD with our outake footage of our movie, a printout of our 11380 Strickland plans, a special video message to her and Spike (or maybe his name is Lester), and our beloved torch signed by all 12 of us. I only I wish I could be there to see her face in the morning. If she ended up moving, I really hope I never find that out.

Looking back at the year, Spanish was really such a dyanmic and perfect group of individuals. They are definitely some of my favorite people. I honestly think that it was the tendency to go at great lengths for the sake of a joke or a moment that made this class so special. It is surely a quality not many people possess. It still is crazy to think back to the events that led up to us trekking down Senora Brown’s creepy driveway. Last night was our last time together and I am completely at peace with that. There will never be another Spanish 7-8 and there never should be. I know we will all go on to have more fantastic experiences but still remember the crazy little adventures we had together in our little hick town of Prescott. To everyone who was a part of this, I truly cannot thank you enough. I could go through and thank every person not only for the ridiculous ideas and the times I have laughed harder than ever before, but for just being your wonderful selves. To all my spanish amigos, Te amo y Adios. (Hiren, that means goodbye.)

I truly hope that Senora will someday google herself and find these pictures of us in her driveway.

I mean its not like Esther Brown has not been googled before.

Keep it Real

Sara Nicole