Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Teacher's Pets

I have former students who are doctors, lawyers, teachers, parents, merchants, clerks, salesmen, mechanics, plumbers, you name it. . . . .

I'm proud of them all. I love seeing them out in the community, taking pride in their work, loving their children, and making a valuable contribution to the planet.

All teachers feel this way. We like to see that what we've done and said and tried, years back, has maybe somehow helped someone to become what they were meant to be: happy loving people who are fully able to make their own way, pay their own way, use their leisure time to enhance themselves culturally, and raise a family (or not) who will grow up to make and pay their own way, too. I love to see former students making a good living, using their brains and their skills and maintaining a good work ethic. I LOVE it when a former student sees me in public and comes over to talk. Heck, I love it when they just remember who I am. ("She looks familiar; was she that fat in 8th grade? Jeepers. She put me in detention four times. Let's go say 'hi.'")

Tomorrow, I'm having supper with one of my dearest teacher-friends, and two former students who are very dear to my heart. Both seniors in high school, both fine, upstanding, intelligent, hard-working young men whose lives and careers I will be following all their lives.

One of them has applied to be in the Cirque du Soleil. I am overwhelmed with the coolness of it. And if he doesn't make it, then the Cirque ain't what it's cracked up to be.

Both young men have already been awarded several scholarships, from businesses and agencies that certainly knew what they were doing. Congratulations on selecting the perfect recipients, by the way. Good job, you. I never want to lose touch with these two. They are so incredibly special to me.

I seldom had a student I disliked, really. And teachers are not supposed to have favorites, of course. But sometimes, there would be a student who nestled right smack inside my heart, and I never wanted to lose track of him/her. Tomorrow's two are seniors. I also have two who are freshman. The main one, of course, has been grown up for a long time and lives in Massachusetts, where he teaches music at a college; he long ago made the transfer from student to friend.

See you tomorrow, Pam and Josh and Dustin. I'm really looking forward to it. And Wes: You have a good time at your bachelor party tonight. Wow. Time really does fly.

Oh, and Pam? I've got some more stuff to tell you. Yeah, you know what it's about, too. Are you hyperventilating? Stop that.