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For the last few months, I've mentally assigned the sedan to one of the teachers I like least, a teacher who brags about her rich father and constantly yells at her kids. I was positive the car belonged to her -well, either her or the woman with the bleached blond hair. It was only a matter of time before I'd catch her in the act of driving it. Then I'd be free to dislike her without even a trace of guilt: not only was she mean, she was a Republican!
Finally, this Monday, my prime suspect left. On maternity leave. And Lo, on Tuesday morning, I spotted the beige sedan hulking in the parking lot, its very lineaments radiating conspicuous conservatism. Something shifted uneasily in my gut.
I forgot, of course. I bumbled through my first post-DST work day, herding children and blowing bubbles and practically shouting Osanna when a colleague stuck in her head in my office door to say she was making coffee. 4:00 rolled around. I packed up and left.
And there, climbing into her car, was the owner of the beige sedan. It was one of my favorite teachers, a pretty, young, enthusiastic woman who has a positive word for every child and every adult, who earned her degree with the specific intention of teaching poor urban kids, who gets to school at 5:00 AM sometimes to set up stations for her kindergartners.
Spending all these hours in school like I do, I should have remembered learning hurts.
1 comment:
Humbling.
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