One of the benefits of working in a small school is that I know each of my students by name, I can recognize their handwriting when grading tests, and I've come to understand their personalities. For example, Maeba-san loves to play the clarinet, but she hates cleaning and will do anything she can to get out of it, including faking menstrual cramps or conveniently losing a button on her blouse. Ujou-kun wants to be a translator when he grows up, but all he really thinks about is soccer. Kitani-chan isn't very good at English, but she has a great sense of humor and will always yell random English phrases in the hallway, such as “Wow! Unbelievable!” Over the past ten months, I've really gotten close to some of them, so I shouldn't have been surprised when a group of 8th grade girls cornered me in the hallway.
“When are you getting back from Seattle?” they asked.
I told them that I'd be back very, very late on June 17th. “But that's your birthday!” they said and hurriedly whispered among themselves in Japanese
I was shocked; they'd remembered my birthday?!
“Where's a calendar? What days will you be at home?” We looked at the calendar together while they chatted rapidly in Japanese and I tried to disguise my confusion. Why were they being so persistent and mysterious? “Please be at home on June 24th and be there ALL DAY. Promise that you'll be there?” I promised, but I asked why.
“Because we want to bring you something for your birthday!” Morimoto-san yelled and Kitani-chan hit her in the arm, “Ssssshhhhh!!! It's a secret!”
I had that tingling in my scalp that you get when your Mom kisses your forehead or your Dad tells you that he's proud of you. It was the same feeling I got in Kyrgyzstan when one of my students introduced me to her parents and said, “I've told them all about you and that you're why I want to learn English.” And I had the same feeling in Spain when one of the German girls in my class told me that she'd had a bad opinion of Americans, but after meeting me she'd realized that maybe her prejudices were wrong.
I don't know quite how to describe it, but I think it's the feeling that maybe, just maybe, I've done something right.
2 comments:
Ailey, this doesn't surprise me at all. You have such an amazing (and immediate) connection to people that I would even call it a gift. Why do you think we all miss you so much?
Oh, Ailey, I am not surprised at all, either! Your students are very lucky to have you for a teacher! It is very impressive that they recognize that and want to show how much they appreciate you! I think you have done many, many things right!
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