Sun poured through the windows, lighting the linoleum, while my students shoved the desks into a circle. I dumped my backpack onto a desk to find the book I use for class. That’s when I remembered that I’d be collecting student folders that day.
“Damn,” I said aloud. “I forgot to bring an extra bag. For the portfolios.” I looked up at the clock, to see if I had time to run back to my office.
The young man to my left, an outgoing student with crazy hair, looked up from his iPhone. “You usually carry an extra bag in your coat pocket,” he said. “The pink one.”
He was right. I checked the coat pocket, but the pink bag wasn’t there. “I must have used it when I stopped at the store yesterday,” I said.
“Check your backpack,” he said without even looking up from the tiny screen he was staring at. “The green bag should be there.” The girl next to him, who sorting through the papers in her folder, swished her bright red hair as she nodded in agreement.
I checked – and he was right. Tucked under the books and folders, I found a green fabric bag I could use to carry the portfolios.
“We know you pretty well,” teased the girl with the red hair. “I mean, we spent that whole long month of February with you.”
“And everyone knows that February is NINETY-FOUR days long,” added the young man sitting across the circle from me. He grinned.
It’s that time of the semester. My students and I know each other all too well. We eat each other’s food, we finish each other’s sentences, and we know each other's weak spots. We’re all just hanging in there, together, trying to get our work done, waiting for summer to begin.
“Damn,” I said aloud. “I forgot to bring an extra bag. For the portfolios.” I looked up at the clock, to see if I had time to run back to my office.
The young man to my left, an outgoing student with crazy hair, looked up from his iPhone. “You usually carry an extra bag in your coat pocket,” he said. “The pink one.”
He was right. I checked the coat pocket, but the pink bag wasn’t there. “I must have used it when I stopped at the store yesterday,” I said.
“Check your backpack,” he said without even looking up from the tiny screen he was staring at. “The green bag should be there.” The girl next to him, who sorting through the papers in her folder, swished her bright red hair as she nodded in agreement.
I checked – and he was right. Tucked under the books and folders, I found a green fabric bag I could use to carry the portfolios.
“We know you pretty well,” teased the girl with the red hair. “I mean, we spent that whole long month of February with you.”
“And everyone knows that February is NINETY-FOUR days long,” added the young man sitting across the circle from me. He grinned.
It’s that time of the semester. My students and I know each other all too well. We eat each other’s food, we finish each other’s sentences, and we know each other's weak spots. We’re all just hanging in there, together, trying to get our work done, waiting for summer to begin.
4 comments:
awww... that's so lovely, that you really do know each other so well after only a semester together! I love it that I get to spend 4 semesters with some of my Portuguese students, we're a big family at the end too!
You sound like you're a gem of a professor. A rare breed, @joe. On behalf of anyone who forgot to say it... "Thank you for being amazing."
Once again, I am jealous of your students. I do so wish I had you for a teacher when I was back at school this last time.
There have been a few professors whom I wished I could have more than a semester with. It's sad but the nature of university.
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