Children of the Past

Ancient Greece - Too Hard to Remember?

It is an early summer day in the year 403 BC. A stream of bright light shone through the small window in my room. I yawned and sat up on the couch, staring out the high window. I could see the busy marketplace where all the trades and meetings take place. I could also see the acropolis at the center of Athens, where all citizens from the polis, the city-state, gather together and discuss politics and votes. Quickly, I changed my tunic and got downstairs to the dining room where breakfast was served.

My name is Aesop and I am ten years old while my older brother, Achilles, is fifteen. We both have dark hair and eyes and are taller than most boys of our age. Our father studies philosophy and comes from a noble family and my mother does all the cleaning and cooking. Sometimes, she told my brother and me different fables and stories before sleeping at night. Our 12 ancestors were one of the aristocrats that ran the government back when Athens was a city of oligarchy. Now, Athens is a city of democracy and citizens can have a part in running the city. Father says it's better when everyone can take part and not just because it is fair, but because there could also be some clever opinion that could help make Athens greater. 

After breakfast, Achilles and I were taken to school by our pedagogues, slaves that help us with the school. In math class, the teacher taught us different shapes and formulas. He assigned us some homework which would eventually be done by my pedagogue. In poetry, we continued learning about the great poet, Homer. The teacher also assigned us to memorize the first chapter of any poem written by Homer. The reason was that we would have to recite the poem later that would determine if we get to pass to the next grade. I started to panic. I was never good at memorizing, let alone reciting a whole chapter long of a poem.

When school was over that day, my brother and I went home with our pedagogues and started our homework. Like always, my pedagogue would help me do the math and I would write down the answer. However, poetry was different. He could only help me memorize a poem, but could not do it for me. With encouragement from my pedagogue, we found an epic poem by Homer and started to memorize it. Over the next few days, with my pedagogue and Achilles' help, I managed to get three pages memorized. 

Soon, it was time for our test on poetry. Each student had to stand in front of the class and recite the poem they chose a few weeks earlier. I stared in awe as my classmates recited their poems with emotion and confidence. During my turn, I was so nervous that I forgot part of the poem. At the end of class, our teacher announced that the whole class passed and would level to the next grade next year. I let out a sigh of breath. I learned that I could not just let my pedagogue do all my work. I decided that from now on, I would only ask him to teach me whenever I didn't know something and not ask him to do it for me.