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

1 - welcome to welton

While her Uncle John had gone on to university to become a teacher, Maria's father – Joseph Keating – had married Maria's mother only a few months after graduation and then enlisted in the army a few years after Maria had been born.

As all unfortunate stories about orphans such as herself went, her father had the nasty misfortune of dying on the battlefield and its emotional toll had taken her mother, who had already been suffering with a chronic disease, not too long after.

At just six and three-quarters, Maria Keating was an orphan. It was fortunate then, that her uncle and his wife and taken her in, bringing her up as their own in a small home filled with her uncle's purple prose and her aunt's freshly baked goods.

Now, at sixteen years old, Maria and her Uncle John had left the comforts of London, Ohio for the quiet and conservative Vermont, New England where he had taken up a new job as an English teacher at Welton and an arrangement of sorts had been struck between themselves and Headmaster Nolan.

Maria could reside in Welton but would be essentially homeschooled by her uncle. The only times she'd be around and interacting with the school boys would be during meal times and after school hours during study hall or free hours. But even this promised a bit of social time, it came with strict expectations set out by Nolan. He had been adamant that she not engage too frequently with the boys so as to not distract them from their academics or extracurriculars. She should not invite nor encourage any ungentlemanly behaviour from them. And, of course, Maria would be subject to the same strict rules of conduct of the school as a kind of honorary student despite her homeschooled status.

The forthcoming consequences of Nolan's strict rules were easy enough for Maria to understand. Nolan intended for her to be a recluse this year.

Not that Maria minded much

She was naturally quiet – like a meadow mouse – as her uncle had once compared her to.

"A brown meadow mouse who grins like the Cheshire cat. My, what an effective disguise it would be if I didn't see right through you, my dearest, sweetest niece. When will you shed your mousy fur and pounce, Maria?"

Applause came from the audience around her and Maria was shaken out of her thoughts. This gave her a good chance to look at some of the Welton boys.

A good handful of them had to be around her age, either sixteen or seventeen. They all looked razor-sharp and smart in their pressed uniforms. Gold pins of achievement shone from the breast pocket of their blazers and Maria noticed how some boys had more pins than others and some had none at all.

But, Maria acknowledged, they all seemed the perfect image of a preparatory school boy with a solid family name, a hefty trust fund, and a promising future in an Ivy League.

"As you know, our beloved Mr. Portius of the English department retired last term. You will have the opportunity later to meet his replacement, Mr. John Keating, himself a graduate of this school. And who, for the past several years, has been teaching at the highly regarded Chester School in London."

Her uncle stood during his introduction, smiling at the crowd of curious eyes.

"He and his ward will be joining us for the school year, though I assure you, it will not be of any inconvenience to Welton's current students." Nolan's quick acknowledgement of her made Maria cower in her seat, acutely aware of the eyes that trailed from her uncle to her.

She focused her attention on her hands, fiddling with the garnet ring that rested on her finger.It had once belonged to her mother. That's what Uncle John had told her when he returned – not gifted, as he emphasized – the ring to her on her sixteenth birthday a few days before they had left for Vermont. It was one of two "returned gifts", the other being her father's old journal. A journal that he had written during his time at Welton.