It’s been over a week since James Zant died, and I’ve been meaning to write about it, but haven’t been able to make decent time for it. It’s probably better anyway that I had time to reflect on it more.
Mr. Zant was definitely one of the better teachers at Rosemead High School and one of the few who I feel made an impact on me. It wasn’t really what he taught that lives with me now, but the effect of his character. He had a great sense of humor, was very witty and sarcastic. He wouldn’t speak to us like we were fellow bar patrons, but he did gently introduce us to the type of language we’d encounter in what was to become the real world. And like everyone else I do remember how he like to keep his room cold no matter the temperature outside. I suppose most of all, I liked him because he actually seem to care and wanted to be there. It’s easy to find people who will show up, but hard to find those who will be there. I’m pretty sure teaching brats like us isn’t easy, so I hope Mr. Zant is getting his rest now.