where all the poets went to die [dead poets society]

11 - an absolute lovesick ninny

"No grades at stake, folks. Just take a stroll," Keating said, waving a hand at Cameron, Pitts, and Knox who begin walking around in a circle in the courtyard.

After a few moments, the three boys begin to march to the same beat.

"There it is," Keating said.

The other boys and Maria started clapping to the rhythm of their steps.

"I don't know, but I've been told - " Keating started.

"I don't know, but I've been told -" the boys echoed.

"Doing poetry is old -"

"Doing poetry is old-"

"Let, left, left-right-left. Left, left, left-right-left. Left, halt!" Keating held up a hand and the boys came to a stuttering halt. "Thank you, gentlemen. If you noticed, everyone started off with their own stride, their own pace."

Keating began walking very slowly. "Mr. Pitts, taking his time. He knew he'll get there one day. Mr. Cameron, you could see him thinking, 'Is this right? It might be right. It might be right. I know that. Maybe not. I don't know'."

The students chuckled softly and then Keating began walking with his groin pushed forward. "Now, Mr. Overstreet, driven by deeper force," the chuckles turned into laughter now as Knox looked around sheepishly, running his fingers through his hair. "Yes. We know that. All right."

Keating looked around at the students. "I didn't bring them up here to ridicule them. I brought up them here to illustrate the point of conformity: the difficulty in maintaining your own beliefs in the face of others. Now, those of you - I see the look in your eyes like, 'I would've walked differently.' Well, ask yourselves why you were clapping."

He let the idea resonate for a while. "Now, we all have a great need for acceptance. But you must trust that your beliefs are unique, your own, even though others may think them odd or unpopular, even though the herd may go, 'That's baaaad.' Robert Frost said, 'Two roads diverged in a wood and I, I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.'. Now, I want you to find your own walk right now. Your own way of striding, pacing. Any direction. Anything you want. Whether it's proud, whether it's silly, anything. Gentlemen, lady, the courtyard is yours."

The students dispersed, some walking with confidence, others unsure of themselves, and some walking in the weirdest and silliest ways they could possibly think of.

Maria walked with a slight bounce in her step, eyes flickering around the courtyard as she searched for her own walk.

Charlie, on the other hand, stood at the edge of the courtyard, leaning against one of the pillars with his arms crossed.

Keating noticed. "You don't have to perform. Just make it for yourself. Mr. Dalton? You be joining us?"

Charlie smirked and shook his head. "Exercising the right not to walk," he said.

"Thank you, Mr. Dalton," Keating hummed. "You just illustrated the point. Swim against the stream."

Maria walked over to him, the silver clip in her hair twinkling in the sunlight, and he looked over her with flirty eyes. She'd been opting for tailored pants a lot more with the colder weather coming in, but it was nice enough today for her to wear a skirt and Charlie wouldn't deny he always appreciated the sight of her in a plaid skirt and knee-high socks.

"Hey there, rebel," she said with a teasing smile, joining him.

Charlie grinned back at her. "Can't help it. I've always been a troublemaker, you know," he winked.