Tonight I got a phone call from an old middle school teacher, which I realize doesn't happen to most people, but that's just because most people aren't the shit, like me. Anyway, he wanted to confirm that I was actually getting married (as I had hinted in an earlier e-mail) and asked if he could tell various attendants of a Harmon Middle School retired teachers lunch the following day.I asked him who was going to be there, and it was a cavalcade of old favorites-- Mrs. Hayes, Mrs. Wolfe, and others. And as he was listing them off, it hit me how strange it is that, while pretty much unknown to the rest of the world, the teachers you have when you are young are like your first encounters with celebrities-- like when I freaked out when I was nine and saw my old second grade teacher, Mrs. Mills, at Heinen's, which made no sense, because teachers do not go out in public or appear anywhere other than in their classrooms.
This is a feeling I was never able to shake-- I once ran into another teacher, Mrs. Brookhart, out at the same Heinen's (only in a different plaza now, so can that really be considered the same Heinen's?), while visiting home from graduate school when I was 24. And I was still like: "Wow. Mrs. Brookhart. In Heinen's."
Maybe this isn't a phenomenon common to other people, as I was freakishly attached to my teachers growing up (which might explain why I still consider the original aforementioned sixth-grade teacher one of my favorite people). I do remember that some of my own (male-- just to clear up the coming confusion) students seemed totally freaked out to see me at the beach one day when I was a TA, but I think that was more because they didn't have their shirts on and felt totally grossed out that their TA could see their nipples.
But still, I couldn't help but feel sort of proud that news of my impending marriage was being carried back to the all-star crowd at the Harmon reunion lunch tomorrow. I just hope a certain gym teacher doesn't ruin it by doing his hilarious impression of the way I run.
I don't run like that anymore, ass! And I'm marrying a hot guy. So bite it.
5 pipers piping:
I have to know: Is that gold star actually from when you were in middle school?
And yeah, if my TA had seen my nipples, I'd be uncomfortable. Then again, my TAs were either guys or in their fifties.
K--
Lost your email address. Email me. Now. Do it.
-jeremy
Dude, is that a Mrs. Balbach (i totally forget how to spell her last name...) Super Star?
You are awesome.
That is indeed an authentic Mrs. Balbach Super Star, circa seventh or eighth grade-- I was shocked to find that I had not one but TWO of them, which is either really sweet and sentimental that I kept more than one, or totally, totally creepy.
as an 8th grade teacher, i continue to find this teacher-as-super-duper-depite-alienness phenomenon quite interesting and disturbing. like, for all of these kids, FOREVER, i am their 8th grade teacher. it's a big job, because whether they like you or hate you, it LASTS. i will always be able to say that mrs. hurley was my kindergarten teacher. likewise for all of these manky little ms. croot proteges. freaky.
also, when i run into my students outside of school, it is uncomfortable for all of us. i recently ran into one in subway, and i ate another bite before tossing my entire sandwich in the trash and jetting--it was that weird. and the kids say, in their own words, that seeing a teacher outside of school is like watching a dog walk around on his hind legs. no joke.
how much do i love that you have that star? there are no words, kim. none.
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