Musings

I am in my classroom. I am sitting at my desk. I am staring at the empty seats. If I didn’t think people would call me crazy, I would swear I can see them vibrating with the energies of students past, with the anticipation of students to come. I am imagining all things, great and small, soon to play out in front of me in this very room, in these very seats. It is like a movie in my mind: student A in the front row is complaining about student B behind him, because student B has her feet on the back of his chair; another student is asking for his third pencil this week, which I, of course, hand to him with a compassionate ‘you-know-better’ smirk; now student A is busy editing a written assignment to post to his blog; student B may now lay her feet as she likes, because student A is too engrossed in his work to notice; and all the while, three students in the back row are talking about what they liked and didn’t like about the story we just read. ‘Their minds are expanding,’ I tell myself, ‘I can feel it.’ I stare at the seats. And from the seats there issues a silent hum….

I am in Walmart. I am exiting Walmart. As I wheel my cart toward the exit, I spot a CAM student. He smiles that awkward, crooked, blushing smile that students often make when running into teachers in public, such as here, such as now. I greet him in an ironic sort of way, and he just grins bigger and says, “Two more days.” Yes. “Two more days,” I repeat back to him.