I had my head down at my desk at the front of the class before it began, filling out forms. Class was due to start in 10 minutes, but only three students had arrived, so I was on the verge of panic--had I scared them so badly last week that they'd all bailed out? So I was hiding my head, hoping for a miracle, when I heard a voice in front of me say, "I have three temporary guests this evening." I looked up to see a fourth student smiling down at me. "Oh, how nice!" I said, and peered around her to see who those guests might be.
I had to look twice to find the three little heads just barely clearing the desktops in the back of the room. "Their daddy's going to come get them in half an hour," she explained. "That's fine," I said, slightly dazed because in all my years of teaching, not one student has ever brought a child to class. Of course, I immediately went back to meet each of them, shake their hands, and welcome them to what I assumed was their first college classroom: two boys, 8 and 10, and their little sister, 6. The 8-year-old had already had a big day: a poem he wrote got the top school prize for his age group, and there will be a Literary Tea for the winners next month; his mama was just barely able to keep it together, she was so beside herself with pride.
I invited her son to read his poem to the class, but that was--unsurprisingly--too much even for this little guy (you never know!--gotta give the kid a chance!), so his mama read it to us. Not only was it amazing for an 8-year-old, it was amazing for anybody! It was GOOD. Dazzling, even. (And I'm picky about poetry.) As 15 grownups burst into applause, I watched Mr. Cool back there lose his expression of no-expression, light up like a bonfire, and pump both fists in the air. Twice. Our eyes met, and I pumped right back at him, both of us flashing triumph.
I wonder what his older brother thought. His little sister probably didn't notice because by this time, she was sitting on her mama's lap, sucking her thumb. When their daddy came to pick them up, I was sorry to see them go.
Doc, I am LOVING these stories of your classroom. (Well, I love all your stories...) It certainly sounds like where you're Meant to Be, other than, of course, with a (virtual) pen in your hand.
Posted by: beth | April 23, 2005 at 06:08 AM
Oh me too. Please don't stop telling us. Meant to Be indeed.
Posted by: Pica | April 23, 2005 at 06:40 AM
There you go again! Perhaps those forays into the world beyond the ivory tower just served to reinforce the truth of your divine purpose.
Posted by: chorusgirl | April 25, 2005 at 10:55 AM
That's wonderful, wonderful!
Posted by: dale | April 27, 2005 at 11:48 AM