2002-05-02
This just happened..., posted at 3:10 p.m.
Epiphany in Baltimore has moved to epiphanyinbaltimore.blogspot.com Scene: My classroom, 3:25 pm. School's just let out, kids still swarming the hallway. A 16-year old girl who I've never had and don't know but always seems to yell, "Hey Mr. Epiphany!" to me (I vaguely recall a conversation with her earlier in the year after I heard she was listening to Chicago [a Black girl in an inner-city high school!] on her headphones) comes into my room. She's being pushed by a friend into my doorway.Student: Hey Mr. Epiphany
Me: Hey! (overcompensating in my friendliness because I don't know her name)
Student: (being pushed) I don't know why they're pushing me.
(Pause)
Me: Oh, okay. (not sure how to respond. I'm sort of thinking she might be about to ask me to advise something.)
Student: (to whoever is pushing her) Okay, fine! ... Remember when I told you you had pretty eyes?
Me: (I vaguely remember students telling me every now and then that I have nice eyes or that my eyes match my shirt when I wear blue, which is sort of often.) Yes I do. Thanks.
Student: How old are you?
Me: (getting a bit suspicious) 24
Student: Oh, you're young.
Me: Yup. (getting more and more unsure how to respond. am glad she's mostly in the hallway and other students are outside the hall as well)
Student: (Pause) Well, I think you're cute.
Me: (Pause) Well, thanks.
Student: Okay, that's all.
Me: See ya later! Hey, what's your name so I can connect a name with the face? (I'm thinking I better know her name so I can tell someone else...)
Student: (and this is her real name. I probably shouldn't put it here, but I think it fits her well) Unique
Me: Well, I'll remember that! See ya!
****
This just happened.
My reactions ran the gamut from "Oh my god! What the fuck am I supposed to do?" to "This is just a dumb crush - not a big deal at all" to "Damn, this is probably how folks like my high school Biology teacher Mr. Brady get into asinine statutory relationships with students" to "Why can't girls ten years older than her say things like that to me?" to "Did I handle it okay?" to "Who do I tell now?".
***
The other interesting thing that happened to me occurred seventh period. There was a teaching candidate who came in an taught my class. That's what we make prospective teachers do - interview AND audition. (Thank god I was a late summer hire and didn't have to do it.)
Anyhow, so I got to sit back and watch someone else teach my 7th period. This woman (her performance was a C-, if I had to grade her... I wouldn't hire her) had the kids read the excellent Zora Neale Hurston essay "How It Feels to Be Colored Me!" and then had them write their own "Me" essays. She wanted me to do it as well. At the end, she tried to get kids to share the essays. Almost all of them did. I felt sort of pressured to share mine, and I came within an nth degree of crying while reading it. I almost lost it. It was so bizarre. I shared with the kids before I read it that this is one of my phobias, to read my own work out loud, and that they all better do it after me (then again, I was about the 18th person to read, and my supervisor was present and had read hers).
Here was my essay:
"As I gaze into my classroom full of ninth-graders busily completing their assignment, I am left to ponder my own path I've taken in the decade since I was in their place. When I was fifteen, Baltimore was a far-off place, as exotic as Europe or Japan, a city I only knew as Al Kaline's hometown - a fact he never failed to mention during any Tiger/Oriole game. Now it is my home. I am still not sure if it my final destination or if it is simply a rest area on the highway of my life, but right now I am content - in fact, more content than I ever remember being. I look forward to coming into my job every day. Well, almost every day. Despite being 600 miles away from my family, friends, and the only home I've ever known (this is where I came close to losing it... I hope they didn't notice), I've made good friends here that will be lasting. I love the city. I now refer to Baltimore as "home" and MIchigan as 'home home' - as in, I'm going home tonight but 'home home' over spring break. Perhaps some day I will consider Baltimore to be my 'home home.'"
Anyhow, I almost cracked. My voice almost snagged on the prongs of my feelings (that's a line from Hurston). But it didn't. That would have been bad.
Gotta go. With baseball practice rained out, now is my time to perhaps make a small dent in the tons of grading I've got to do.