By: Doug Lucey P'23, '27, '30, Latin & Spanish Teacher
They say Latin is a dead language, but in the Shore Latin classroom, the characters in textbooks are brought to life. Lucia, Grumio, Quintus, Caecilius — these are not mere names; they are personalities, celebrities, even friends. Students connect to these largely fictional characters, who are loosely based on real people who lived in the first century C.E. in the ancient city of Pompeii. It is no accident that the textbook writers at Cambridge University Press chose this setting for our Latin instruction: the eruption of Vesuvius in 79 C.E. provides an epically dramatic backdrop for the daily lives of these Latin speakers. Students spend months getting to know the routines of the family members, the intrigues of the enslaved people, and even the love lives of the teenagers.
When the cataclysm of Vesuvius emerges in the narrative, students consistently react with shock and concern. Their emotional response to the death of these characters is striking. Without prompting, students independently ask each year to plan a mock funeral to commemorate their favorite characters.
The phrase “mock funeral” can be somewhat fraught. Presented with the misfortunes of others, middle school students react with a range of emotions, from ironic jests to sincere empathy. Yet their depth of connection is continually astonishing. For some, the loss portrayed in the narrative echoes real-life experiences with grief, presenting a challenge to balance the light-hearted atmosphere with sensitivity to potential personal trauma. Regardless of individual life experience or belief system — atheistic, monotheistic, or polytheistic — the power of ritual provides a unifying force.
In the process leading up to the ceremony, students revisit prior chapters in the textbook for clues about how the ancient Romans viewed death and the afterlife. They also engage in outside reading about ancient funeral practices. Together, they decide which elements to adopt or adapt. Over the past four years of conducting this project, certain components consistently emerge: food, music, and somber words. Students universally reject the ancient practice of hiring professional mourners, as described in the source material, who would be paid to tear at their hair and scratch their faces. Occasionally, students have been guided away from enthusiastic requests for pyrotechnics during the ceremony (!). After about a week of formal planning, students are ready to engage in the event.
The rite itself begins with a procession from the Latin classroom, often accompanied by doleful music from a guitar or violin, and simple percussion. A key element for wealthy Romans was the presentation of a bust, or imago, of the deceased during the march to the graveside, so a student is tasked with a visual display. The procession winds its way toward the Inspiration Garden and encircles an urn or metal bowl. Equipped with small slips of paper, students read aloud brief epitaphs, composed in English or Latin, honoring one or more characters. The Latin teacher, as pontifex maximus, dons a toga over his head to signify the sanctity of the moment and intones words in Latin, beseeching the gods of the underworld (Dis Manibus) to look favorably upon departed souls. Using a candle as a symbol of cleansing fire, students burn their slips of paper, offering them as effigies for those who perished in Pompeii. After a moment of silence, the group returns to the classroom to share a Mediterranean feast of pizza, grapes, and figs.
A sampling of epitaphs penned by students, some straightforward, some quite poetic:
I would like to commemorate all of the people who died from Mount Vesuvius, but especially the family of the beloved banker, Caecilius. Specifically his wife and daughter, Metella and Lucia. Metella spent her days hosting guests and making sure all of their enslaved people were working their hardest. However, Lucia preferred to spend her time reading in the garden. Caecilius was a hard working guy, and he spent his time giving loans and trading money, working hard to provide for his family. Lastly, I would like to say my saddest farewell to Cerberus, the family pet. -2023
They were the Iucundus family… Though their beloved city was at its end, they looked hard and far to find each other until they physically could not go any further. And even though they passed, they still were brave enough to go back at any cost to find their family, through the ruins, smoke and ash, and flames of their once thriving city. -2022
Only her daughter can bring out the good
Hiding behind attitude and a mass of fake curls
She holds Lucia close, whispering her love
As the walls crumble around them
We will remember Metella at her best. -2021
Experiential learning elevates lessons by allowing students to explore powerful emotions in a safe, supportive environment, leading to deeper and more lasting learning. This funeral experience offers a meaningful way for students to engage with complex concepts beyond traditional assessments. While parts like research and epitaph writing are graded conventionally, the ritual itself creates emotional memories that, unlike typical test preparation, imprint deeply and shape personal growth in lasting ways.
Throughout the process, Latin students aren't just memorizing facts; they are interpreting research, building consensus, navigating the complexities of event planning, preparing for the recitation of personal writing, and learning to modulate their emotions in a public setting. Latin, for these students, comes vividly alive, connecting them to real-world skills and personal growth.
Perhaps most importantly, by mourning the passing of beloved characters, students achieve a sense of closure, allowing them to honor what they have learned while stepping forward into the next stage of their education. Through this emotional journey, the language — and their learning — truly lives on.