From my niece, Michelle...
I'm sitting in Mr. Russell's ninth grade English
class. Well, I think it's English although it could
have been science or math since I had him
for three straight courses in a row. He's wearing
his only suit, threadbare and shiny. We're chatting
away about the Beatles' concert coming up
in Montreal. Even though it's three hours away,
one girl is going to it. She's a complete Beatles nut.
The guys are talking about, I don't know, guy stuff,
I guess; I'm not really listening to them. I'm looking
at our sad sack of a teacher as he just sits there
behind his desk letting us visit with each other
without calling the class to order and teaching us
something. This goes on day after day. At first
it was cool to socialize all period but it's getting
old and we aren't learning. If I was the teacher,
I'd have the kids take turns reading or I'd devise
a game to play with their vocabulary words
or...anything to stimulate learning. But, no,
it seems like too much of a bother for him.
I look toward the door and see a nun watching
us through the window with a frown on her face.
Rumor has it she's very strict and mean. And it is
then I know I want to be somewhere in between
these two. A tiny little candle starts burning in my mind.
I'm going to be a teacher. But, right now the girls
are making plans for Friday night and I must participate.