Wednesday, September 6, 2006


On Monday there was a celebration back at school. A Teachers' Day celebration, complete with songs, dances, speeches; a daring offer by the students of grade eleven to take over the school for half the day; and an afternoon of games.
I missed all the excitement, because I got there too late and left too early, but what I did manage to grab were a few hours with my old teachers. Most of the teachers who taught me have left, either to other cities, other schools, or retirement; but there were enough of them who remembered the person I'd been. What was brought to my notice, in a rather unnerving manner, was my apparent tendency to think like one of the gang. I found phrases like, "children that age", and "kids nowadays" and "there's no respect" and "parents really don't understand" trip off my ready tongue in spite of my brain revolting in a marked manner somewhere in my head.
I tried analyzing it, as I do all my quirks, and I came up with something rather depressing. Not I have no friends I want to die depressing, but rather Oh Good Lord I'm turning into my mother depressing.
Alas, it is true. I am more like my mother everyday. But back to my teacher tendency. Perhaps it's because my mother's a teacher? (also an aunt and two cousins. explaining seems to run in the family.) Perhaps it's because she is a good teacher. Perhaps it's because she is what I'd call an educator. Somehow she can make education seem the most important thing anyone can be involved in. And I believe it, too. Nothing is as rewarding as making someone understand something they didn't before. Nothing is as close to a free high as the look on someone's face when there's a brand new idea in their head.

This raises more questions than it answers. I do believe I prefer it that way.

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