Blast From The Past

Today I had the privilege of working at a middle school, which is always fascinating for me. I love sitting in the cafeteria people watching. I know most people do this at malls, but since I typically hate malls and I especially hate middle schoolers in malls. I'll take what I can. There are still those same lunch tables that have some great divide among them, but now that I'm out of that phase it's harder to pinpoint who's who. Or maybe I just don't care, but as I tried to determine labels for each (judge me if you must) I did find the table with all Latino students, one with all African American boys, another with African American girls, the table with the "abnormally cute for middle schoolers", near a table of slightly punk couples. I giggled to myself of course, so glad that time does indeed move on. Problems that were so major then are put into perspective now.

Then the door I was standing in front of to make sure my student left was located in front of an awkward boys table. They themselves didn't seem that awkward, but middle school boys I just find to be goofily awkward. None the less, the "looking" began. I'm not a normal face in this school and it does not go unrecognized surprisingly for this age that tends to be so self involved. The insecure me began to wonder what they were looking at. I've had a cold and been blowing my nose like crazy, which is causing some dry skin and anxieties about "escapees". My mind was aflutter with all the wardrobe malfunctions there could be as some at the table began to whisper. Just as I was about to give them a piece of my I'm 28 years old  and I don't care about your looks face a woman swept in front of me pleading for me to look at her butt to see if she sat in something. As I stared at this strange woman's pants she told me the story of how some girls at the table she was manning told her she had stuff on her butt as she walked away. I smiled as I saw nothing and reassured her of the nothing on her pants and was reassured of the nothing malfunctioning on me.

Later we had a tornado drill. My student who typically, I'm told, has no behavior issues, refused to sit and cover. His classmate did exactly as told in skinny jeans as are the trend. So skinny jeans and all this other student sat and covered her head, which uncovered her bottom. Oh the many issues with skinny jeans. So I asked my student to sit again. He said, "I can't my jeans are too tight." I tried to compel him to try. Looking down at his classmate and her skinny jean butt issue he looked back at me and simply shook his head as though to say, I'm not gonna show off my butt like that!

I couldn't blame him. Because the truth I came to today was that I do care. It's not an all consuming, nerve racking, anxiety producing care. But it's there. And I think it's good. Well, I know it's good. It's the very thing that wills me to shower most every morning, to check my zipper, to gently graze my nose, to chew gum or have a mint after lunch, or to tug at my shirt during a tornado drill. I cared in middle school. I care now. And I'm ok with that. ;)