...except for me and my monkey! "Everything we see hides another thing. We always want to see what is hidden by what we see." -Rene Magritte

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

I'm not even hanging out at the high school

I realized something this afternoon: I have totally become one of those lame people who hang out at their old schools.

This time, I had an excuse, sort of: I wanted to see how the girl I tutored in Spanish over the summer was doing. So I walked over to Roosevelt, but there was a staff meeting going on in the Spanish teacher's room. So...I wandered. Auditions for the spring musical must have been going on, because the Commons area leading into the hall outside the drama teacher's room was glutted with middle-schoolers (most of them about four and a half feet tall and looking as though they had lost a fight with Hot Topic), singing and acting very dramatically. Roosevelt was a pretty artsy-fartsy school (as was South), so the spring musical was always a huge draw.

As it turned out, I did run one of the kids I tutored. Her mom had asked that I give them a call when I got back into town for winter break, in case the kids needed Spanish lessons or if the parents wanted to take English lessons or something (the family was Korean). I totally caught the girl off-guard; she was running around with her friends, and I think I embarrased her. I find that, whenever I've embarrased a middle-schooler, the day has been a success. She scampered off, and I sort of meandered around until I felt vaguely ridiculous and I left.

You know, even in high school, I was always going over to Roosevelt. I always had good relationships with my teachers, and I needed 150 community service hours for the International Baccalaureate diploma, so I found myself volunteering there after school several days a week, either leading this math group or tutoring Spanish students. Now, every break, I go over and say hi to my old teachers and let them know how I'm doing. It's funny: you couldn't pay me to go back to middle school, but I find myself drifting over there every time I come back to Eugene. Strange!