My teacher goes to the Mall??
Growing up, it was always strange to see one of your teachers outside of school. There was something pathetic about seeing a teacher on the bus or subway. A high and mighty teacher, at the mercy of the transit system just like you. I took perverse pleasure at seeing them "humiliated" by normalcy. And yet at the same time, I hoped and prayed that they wouldn't spot me, because I knew that if they decided to approach me that I had to be polite or I would regret it the next day in class. Of course, now that I am a teacher, I am on the other end of this experience. I am the teacher that giggling kids are bumping into with their fake smiles. If I thought it was awkward was back then, it is way worse now.
You would think that now that I am an adult, I would have the emotional and social tools to handle these sort of situations with more grace and poise than when I was 13, but I don't. The fact is, I go out of my way to avoid places where I might bump into my students. When you bump into students outside of school, there is a tacit understanding by both parties that the teacher doesn't really have any power outside of the classroom. And yet, "the classroom" is the relationship that you have with your kids, so when you see them, you are forced to become a teacher again for a few moments. Instead of being "Ryan Jacob, the guy in line at the movie theatre," I'm forced to be "Mr. Jacob" again and a little bit of my weekend is taken away.
But the real reason that I try to avoid my students outside of class is because kids find teachers so fascinating. The fact that we have normal lives seems incredible to them. And not just fascinating, but hilarious. Everything about us is hilarious outside of school. Any little bit of outside information is ammunition for them to laugh at me. If I see a kid at the supermarket he will inevitably say something in class like, "I saw Mr. Jacob in the supermarket!" The class will erupt into laughter, as if the situation my student is describing is the most hilarious thing any of them could conceive of. "He was buying lemons!" The student might say. "LEMONS!!" The class will completely fall apart at the idea of me indulging in citrus. The worst part about it is that every human has a defense mechanism against mockery that makes us want to deny or counter-argue anyone trying to make fun of us. "They were Limes! LIMES!" my brain wants to yell back at them. It takes everything within me not to come back at them with, "well, I saw your MOM at the supermarket and she was buying tampons!" Instead I try to remain calm and professional and remind myself that they are 12 years old and I should be the mature one. The kind of mature individual that ducks into another supermarket aisle when a 12 year old comes his way.
You would think that now that I am an adult, I would have the emotional and social tools to handle these sort of situations with more grace and poise than when I was 13, but I don't. The fact is, I go out of my way to avoid places where I might bump into my students. When you bump into students outside of school, there is a tacit understanding by both parties that the teacher doesn't really have any power outside of the classroom. And yet, "the classroom" is the relationship that you have with your kids, so when you see them, you are forced to become a teacher again for a few moments. Instead of being "Ryan Jacob, the guy in line at the movie theatre," I'm forced to be "Mr. Jacob" again and a little bit of my weekend is taken away.
But the real reason that I try to avoid my students outside of class is because kids find teachers so fascinating. The fact that we have normal lives seems incredible to them. And not just fascinating, but hilarious. Everything about us is hilarious outside of school. Any little bit of outside information is ammunition for them to laugh at me. If I see a kid at the supermarket he will inevitably say something in class like, "I saw Mr. Jacob in the supermarket!" The class will erupt into laughter, as if the situation my student is describing is the most hilarious thing any of them could conceive of. "He was buying lemons!" The student might say. "LEMONS!!" The class will completely fall apart at the idea of me indulging in citrus. The worst part about it is that every human has a defense mechanism against mockery that makes us want to deny or counter-argue anyone trying to make fun of us. "They were Limes! LIMES!" my brain wants to yell back at them. It takes everything within me not to come back at them with, "well, I saw your MOM at the supermarket and she was buying tampons!" Instead I try to remain calm and professional and remind myself that they are 12 years old and I should be the mature one. The kind of mature individual that ducks into another supermarket aisle when a 12 year old comes his way.
Comments