You know those moments that you play in your head, and you plan on it going a certain way, and then the real event happens and it goes nothing like how it went in your head? Yeah, I had one of those moments today.
I was at campus today, and I had about 15 minutes before my first class so I decided to make a stop at the bathroom before embarking on a full 5 hours straight of classes. Just as I'm about to open the door, a woman brushes past me and I do a double-take: it's my high school English teacher. We both sort of freeze in that moment of "did she see me, or can I keep walking?" Once we've both established that we're stuck talking to each other (outside of a freakin BATHROOM, let me remind you), we begin to exchange pleasantries. Now I want to say that for a long time now, I have credited my teachers as the inspiration for making me want to become a teacher myself. This teacher meant a lot to me, and I had some of the best English Lit classes of my educational career with her. I also want to say that I knew this particular teacher was at Teachers College, so I knew I was bound to run into her at some point or another. I by no means spent a lot of time thinking about us meeting, but thoughts did run through my head about what we might say to each other.
I have to say, the actual event was sorely disappointing compared to the imaginary conversation that I had been building up in my mind. In my head, she said something like, "Andrea! You were my favorite out of all the students I taught at Friends School. I have never forgotten about you--in fact, I rave about you when I talk to my TC peers. You changed the way I teach. Thank you!" And I would modestly reply, "Oh no, it was all you. You opened up a whole world to me. You showed me the power of reading and writing, and I am a better teacher and person because I was your student. Thank YOU!"
Needless to say, our actual conversation was a little different. First, we did that awkward hug you do when you're seeing someone you haven't seen in a very long time. You know the one--it lasts for about 3 tenths of a second, and your arms barely touch while the rest of your body is stuck waaaaaaay far out from each other. We didn't even greet each other by name. For my part, it was because to me she has always been Ms. So-and-so. Don't ask me why she didn't say my name. It's very likely she simply forgot what it was. Anyway, we then proceeded to have awkward and stilted conversation. Ms. So-and-so: "Wow, you're all grown-up!" Me: "Haha, yeah." (I refrain from saying that she still looks about 18.) Ms: "What are you doing here?" Me: "My program started this week." Ms: "Where are you living?" Me: "Up on 137th, but in the fall I'll be moving into Whitter [the on-campus dorm]." Ms: "Oh, man, good luck with that." Me: "Heh...heh..." (What the hell does THAT mean?) "What program are you in right now?" Ms: "[something really long and slightly boring so I forget, but it has something to do with private schools and principals]." Me: "[feigning interest] Oh. Wow."
And that's where this pathetic excuse for a conversation petered out. Thankfully, I had to get to class, so I had a natural out. I swear, by the end I was covered in a nervous sweat and my cheeks were flushed with the effort of carrying this painfully awkward exchange.
Oh well. Maybe my next interaction with her will go better. Maybe we should go out for drinks--who knows, after a few beers we'll be talking about the good ole' days. Or maybe not.
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