Don't tell Cindy

Some people always seem to loom larger than life in your mind. I've made it a personal policy to not use names in my blog. However, today, I'm breaking my rule. No pseudonym would cut it. It has to be Cindy.

Who is Cindy? She's been an important presence in my life from an early age at the camp I attended every summer in Maine. She is a role model, a mentor, a guide - and - someone who frequently seemed to be my conscience throughout my childhood. Cindy was the head of the waterfront, and the head of safety at camp for quite some time, so she was quite the rule enforcer. It seemed like every time I would even think of breaking a rule such as swimming without a lifeguard, Cindy would either magically appear, or I would hear her voice in my head.

Cindy has a wonderfully dry sense of humor, so all she would have to do would be to raise one eyebrow, and I knew instantly that I had a) done something questionable but b) that she still loved me anyways.

Today, my camp friend and I took a canoe out on a lake. Even today, miles from camp, we still constantly thought of Cindy.

"We aren't wearing our PFD's!" (Personal flotation devices.)
"Don't tell Cindy."

"We aren't kneeling in the boat!"
"Don't tell Cindy."

At one point in order to talk, my friend turned around to face me and paddled backwards while I paddled forwards.
"Don't tell Cindy!"

There seemed to be numerous moments throughout the day in which we were not upholding the highest level of safety in our water vehicle, and we kept saying that we shouldn't tell Cindy. Yet one shouldn't underestimate the true power of Cindy. I knew as soon as we started saying, "Don't tell Cindy" that we would of course confess all to Cindy at the earliest moment possible. That's just Cindy's way. She's the kind of person who makes you want to immediately tell all.

So now, after saying all day that we wouldn't tell Cindy about our minor indescretions, I'm coming clean. I'm telling Cindy.

And now....for the R6!

Being a SEPTA customer isn't always easy. Coming from Washington, DC where the metro runs fairly seamlessly, not to mention where the metro stations are very clean, the South Eastern Pennsylvania Transit Authority constantly seems to fall short.

However, on Thursday (yes, I'm seeming to be constantly falling behind on my blogging these days, so today you'll get Thursday and Friday's blogs), I had a slightly different SEPTA experience.

I was waiting for a regional rail, and instead of the usual robotic monotone announcements of the upcoming trains, a voice came from above, quivering with excitement.

"And now...the R8 to Chestnut Hill West is approaching, ladies and gentlemen! Oh...it's happening! Don't forget that this first car is a quiet car...SHHH!"

For each new train that would approach (and I heard my fair share, because mine was delayed), he would have a new note of excitement in his voice. I felt like I was at a major league sporting event. That definitely made all the difference in that moment.

I'm Popeye, the sailor man!

Yes, I've become that person who takes creepy pictures of people in public. This image, however, was too good to pass up.

At first glance, you only see a tough looking man reading. On closer look, you see that he is actually reading a Popeye comic book. That juxtaposition completely made my day. He was so engrossed that he didn't even notice me snapping this picture.

I just wanted to see if it would fit!

So...this happened...

Okay, not exactly this. Yet, just like Flick in the Christmas Story, one of my 3rd graders yesterday decided to take a risk to see what would happen. In Flick's case, he decided to lick a pole. In my case, this kid decided to stick his finger into a basket of books. This is what ensued:

Student: "TR.JULIE!"
Me: "Wait just a minute, I'm helping another student."
Student: "Umm...TR. JULIE!!!"
Me: "You have to wait your turn, just like everyone else!"
Another student: "Tr. Julie...I really think you should see this..."
Me (Sighing in exasperation): "What could be this important? OH...."

First, I thought that just by pulling his finger I could get it out. When he squealed in pain and the rest of the class started laughing, I knew that more drastic measures had to be taken. We put some lotion on his finger, and tugged. Nothing happened. Finally, when we were about the cut the basket, the finger finally popped loose.

Me: "So why did you do this?"
Student: "I just wanted to see if it would fit."

Enough said. 

Where are your shoes?

On a street corner in Philly: A man stands on the corner, shoeless. A car pulls up:

"Hey, where are your shoes?" the passengers call.

"I just have to eat my dinner first!" he replies.

You just can't make this stuff up. How do you like my super sleuth photography??

The front of the train

My friend and I took the PATCO train back into Philly yesterday, and found a seat in the very front of the train. We were sitting, in fact, right across the aisle from the driver.

It was a glorious view on a glorious day.

Sandstorm

Today I ventured to Dewey Beach for a friend's bachelorette party. The winds were so strong that the ferry wasn't even running, yet that didn't stop us from trying to enjoy laying on the beach. One woman I was with tried to build a fort to shelter us from the bursts of sand that would fly up at us every couple of minutes.

Everyone else was kind of just gritting their teeth and bearing it. She was being proactive. She dug the poles and stakes she had purchased at Home Depot into the sand, and fastened a tarp to cover them.

For one glorious moment, we all marveled at the fact that the tarp actually stopped the wind.

The next moment, the stakes and pipes fell over. We admired her persistence, but laughingly succumbed to the gusts of sand, and enjoyed the blustery day at the beach. 

The man with the shirt that billows in the wind

I'll admit I often like to make up stories in my head about people I see on the street. I'll imagine the most mild-mannered looking strangers having some mysterious, exciting double life. I can't remember when I first saw this man, but I've seen him at least once a week for at least a year.

This man is always standing directly on a grate, in the exact same spot, in front of the exact same sushi joint. See how I did that? It sounds way more mysterious to say sushi joint than sushi restaurant. I bet you're already intrigued.

He always wears a t-shirt and a thin, buttoned-down shirt, opened. Since he stands directly on top of this grate, the air blowing up causes his shirt to billow out behind him. Literally, if I had gotten a picture of him from the side today, he would have looked like he was a hunchback. He's always checking his watch, and just...waiting. Always in the same spot, always with a shirt billowing out behind him, always checking his watch.

I've imagined that this man is part of illicit sales, a member of the mafia, or just his own secret double agent. He looks too sinister to be just your ordinary joe on the street.

Usually, when I smile and say hello to him, he merely looks away and checks his watch. Today, when I approached him, he held up his index finger as if to tell me to stop. I wondered if he was going to confess some huge secret, or beckon me into some illegal activity. I have to admit that even though I was terrified, I felt like Nancy Drew on the verge of solving some huge mystery.

He reached into his pocket. What was he going to hand me?? The suspense was killing me. Finally, he handed me this.

Saying hello to strangers

Today was one of those 14 hour days with exciting events. In the morning, we had our Global Citizenship Day concert, and in the evening our families graduated from our family program. All in all, it was a success.

However, as a teacher it's hard to not get annoyed by the little things when you spend so much time with the same students. Those special event days are the days you really feel like you are babysitting. You walk students over to the theater, you walk them back, you arrange the details of their lunch, you listen to them complain that their concert shirt doesn't fit correctly. In short, you name it, it happens.

So, I was walking my 22 students over to the theater, and one student kept yelling at the top of her lungs, "HI" to all the cars passing by. I finally told her in exasperation that she shouldn't be yelling at strangers.

"But Tr. Julie," she said. "Strangers are just friends you haven't met yet." I begrudgingly realized in that moment that she was right. I talk all the time about approaching strangers, and I couldn't allow her the same?

BUT - I don't yell at them. That, possibly, is the difference. 

Operatic puppet

Sometimes, a picture is truly worth a thousand words...

Walking down the street today, I heard opera music. I glanced around, and then realized that this guy's act was to make his puppet "sing" and "dance" to the opera. Amazing. Who doesn't need/want to see that in the middle of the day?

I couldn't help but wonder if one would see this sight in other major cities. Philly has a certain grittiness that may encourage this type of street entertainment.

I gave him a dollar, and then he posed while I took a picture of him and his puppet. Fantastic moment.

Smoothie Savior

Lately I've been getting really addicted to green smoothies. Like crazy addicted. I crave kale and spinach first thing in the morning. My first attempt at a green smoothie involving chard was a bitter bust, but now I've gotten it down to a science.

Note that my smoothies never look like this, but you get the idea:

Anyways, it's been a couple days since I made a smoothie - I didn't buy what I needed the last time I got groceries. Halfway through today, I felt like if I didn't get a green smoothie in my system, I would scream. I went around the corner to this all-natural cafe, and ordered.

"So, the credit card machine isn't working today, so it'll have to be cash," the owner said. I must have looked fairly desperate, because he offered to make me the smoothie anyways, and have me pay him back the next time I came in. 

I had never been in this particular cafe before, and this man did not know me at all. How did he know that I would ever pay him for the smoothie? Luckily, I found some cash hidden in my wallet, but he was willing to serve me up some green smoothie goodness, essentially for free.

This random act of kindness compiled with the healing powers of the smoothie turned around my day in that one moment. 

A light breeze

Tonight is one of those magical nights. You can have your window open, a fan on, and go to sleep in a light breeze.

Instead of anticipating the inevitable humidity, for tonight, I'm just going to enjoy the wind.

You were spotted

* Some names have been changed

Today, I received a voicemail. Nowadays, cell phones are an automatic form of caller ID, so I knew it was from my my tutee's mother, Joyce Smith, before I even listened to it. Yet...if I hadn't known this in advance, it would have been super creepy. Just you read on and see.

"Good morning Miss Julie Lenard, this is just a message to let you know that you were spotted in the CVS yesterday, around 10:15, have a great day! Smile!" 

Around this point in the message, even though I knew it had to be from my tutee's mother or grandmother, I was still feeling uneasy.

"And...a question for you, do you have a clue as to whom this is? I bet you don't...."

The woman's voice was pretty low and seemed different from the mother or grandmother, so I started wondering if this woman had stolen their phone. I'll admit it, I started getting a bit freaked out.

"Smile, this is Joyce Smith, have a great day, goodbye."

I already knew that this family was rather, how do I put it tactfully, eccentric. This voicemail, which lasted even less than a moment (34 seconds) certainly solidified this fact. I wondered why Joyce (the grandmother, in case you were wondering) didn't just stop me in CVS when she spotted me.

I also started thinking about how different this experience would have been about ten years ago when I didn't have a cell phone or caller ID and wouldn't have any idea who this woman's voice on the other line belonged to.

Yikes. Is this "you were spotted" technique the new form of a prank call? Joyce did seem rather delighted with herself at the end of the voicemail.

Nothing's happening here

This evening my friend and I dined at a restaurant that is owned by a teacher at my school. He also happens to be the head chef. The food there is AMAZING - a combination of Egyptian and Italian. Although I'm not a food critic, I insist that you try this place (you'll have to actually comment to get the name!). You can't leave without trying the rice pudding. And I don't even like rice pudding, but this one is to die for. Anyways, I digress.

After enjoying an amazing meal, and noticing that it had started to really rain outside, we went to pay our compliments to said chef.

He thanked us for our praises, and asked how we were getting home. We said we were going to grab a cab.

"Nonsense," he said. "Nothing's happening here. I'll give you a ride." We looked around at the other patrons, stunned. Several people were dining at this restaurant tonight. I would beg to differ that "nothing" was happening there. We insisted that we would be fine, and that he should get back to his other customers. He refused to take no for an answer, and gave us a ride home.

In that moment, and still, I'm completely blown away. Acts like that don't occur every day.

So, you should totally try this restaurant. I can't, however, guarantee that the owner/head chef will give you a ride home too.

Ladybug Cupcake

I've made it clear that I have recently been suffering from a cupcake addiction. Well, the student birthdays seem to have been multiplying in May. Temptation is everywhere. I receive at least three cupcake offers per day. So far, I've abstained.

Today, I returned to my desk to find this:

Ladybugs hold a special place in my heart. My grandma calls my mom ladybug, and they both call me ladybug from time to time. I've even considered getting a tattoo of a ladybug (except for the fact that it would then look like I had a bug on me). I got a bit sentimental with this cupcake.

Yet - and this is very impressive - I admired the cupcake, and then gave it to my office mate. I had, however, just consumed an entire bar of chocolate. 

Superwoman

Today I woke up to a sticky, humid day, and realized with a sinking feeling that I had to put in my air conditioning units. One of my least favorite parts about living in an old building is the transition from winter to spring, and then the transition from summer to fall. Putting in and taking out two AC units is not a favorite past time of mine.

Two years ago, however, when I had broken my wrist for the first time (yes, that's one out of two broken wrists in two years), I completely panicked at this time of year. I've been living alone for a while, and I'm not used to having to depend on anyone else. That year, it was physically impossible for me to lift a glass of water, not to mention an air conditioning unit. My friends ended up helping me, but I then dreaded the inevitability of having to ask them again when fall rolled around.

This morning, I decided to give it a try. I slowly and carefully lugged my two air conditioning window units out of my storage space and installed them all by myself.

I felt invincible. In that moment, I was Superwoman. Sure, she had crazy cool powers, and all I could do was install a window AC unit by myself, but in that moment, they seemed to be one and the same.

What's going on in your heart?

Today, at dismissal, my 3rd grade student handed me this:

She told me to return it tomorrow once I had circled the appropriate "happening". I'd just like to point out that the following is listed on this sheet as something that could be going on/happening in your heart:

- sadness
- happiness
- love
- brain power
- tiredness
- fun
- gossip
- mixed emotions

I believe that I have experienced all of these emotions/feelings/etc during the past week. The English teacher inside me of course had a bit of trouble with the fact that gossip and brain power were listed right along with feelings and emotions. But, grammar nerd aside, I took a moment to marvel at the creativity and wisdom of a 3rd grader.

What's going on in your heart? I hope it's brain power.

Tied up

Today we played a really cool team in bocce ball. Some of the teams have been really laid-back and friendly. Others have whipped out their measuring tape when the proximity of a ball has been disputed. I'm pretty sure that one team had a referee playing for them. Anyways, it should go without saying that the teams have varied in personality.

One girl on today's team held up her water bottle full of clear liquid and said, "Oh, it's gin." The other one cursed like a sailor. Even their secret weapon, a large man named Steve, cheered every time we made a point. It was a friendly game.

We started off gaining five points very quickly. Then, point by point, we got more and more relaxed - until the game was tied up. We miraculously made two extra points quickly, and then it was the end of our time slot. We had won!

If that other team hadn't been so nice, one of my own team members probably wouldn't have suggested that we just play one more round. We all agreed that we were having so much fun that one more round wouldn't hurt. Of course that's the round that officially tied the game up.

I've said that our bocce ball team wasn't competitive, and I think overall it's been true. But it doesn't mean we don't want to win. In that moment, we almost wished that the other team hadn't been so copacetic.

Walking on Sunshine

Today I was walking along, pretending I was in a music video while listening to my headphones, and the following song came on:

After dancing down the street, I pondered the meaning of "walking on sunshine" for a moment. If you think about it, it's literally impossible to actually walk on sunshine. You'd fall right through the rays. More practically for me, "walking on sunshine" seems to be a feeling when you're so happy that you can't even walk without dancing.

Today, I'm overflowing with sunshine.

Getting into the picture

This morning I went to a Sati class. After it ended I was trying to rush out to meet a friend. I went to the back to grab my stuff, and came back right as the class was trying to take a group photo.

My first instinct was to duck behind the doorway so that I wouldn't spoil the picture.

In that moment, I thought of my mom, which is fitting, today being Mother's Day and all. I have a bad habit of being a bit too self-effacing. My mother is always telling me I shouldn't be in the background, that I'm talented and special - you know, all the things mothers are supposed to tell you. I usually brush off those compliments, because, well, she's my mom, so she has to say that stuff...right?

Yet today my mother's voice told me to get myself into that picture. So I stepped out of the shadows, told the whole group to hold on a second, and I made my presence known.

It's not the most flattering of pictures. I'll put out the disclaimer that I had worked up quite a sweat. But I'm there. I made myself count, and that's all thanks to my amazing mother.

See, Mom? I do listen to what you say. Happy Mother's Day!

No, I NEED it...

I try to be as pleasant as possible to everyone I meet. I truly believe that smiling at someone can completely change an interaction. I was at a coffee shop yesterday. Yes, I'm a bit behind on my posts - deal with it (said whilst smiling). So anyways, at the coffee shop, I really needed to plug in my computer. I looked all around me, and every single outlet was taken. No matter, I thought. Someone will let me charge for a couple minutes, and then we can switch off. I asked one woman who said her laptop won't work without a charger. Fair enough. I asked the next man very politely, while smiling.

"I NEED it," he said huffily.

Yikes. In that moment, even putting my best foot forward clearly wasn't enough!

Fellowshipping

My grandpa always told my grandma that she spent too much time talking to strangers. More times than not, she would end up inviting her new friends to visit her in Louisiana. Then she would go away traveling and leave my grandpa to deal with random people showing up at his doorstep. "Miss Genie told us we could visit anytime," they'd say.

"Woman!" he would say to my grandma, "You and your damn fellowshipping!"

I've definitely inherited my grandma's love of "fellowshipping" and it always leads to unique situations. Yesterday evening at happy hour, my friend and I sat down at one of those tables that was literally right next to another table. It could have been awkward, but instead the four of us ended up ordering rounds of drinks and suggesting desert ideas. We even made tentative plans to try karaoke in the future.

I want to note that I did not, however, extend an open invitation to our new friends to stay at my apartment. 

A moment on the office floor

There came a moment at work today when my co-worker and I were just overwhelmed enough that we decided to close our office door, lay on the floor, and de-stress. 

It was only a moment on the floor, but it felt pretty darn good. I could see why George Costanza spent all the time he did under his desk.

What's the weather?

Up until the age of 18, I never read a weather report.

My morning routine was to wake up, shower, put on my bathrobe, and yell down the stairs, "DAD??!! WHAT'S THE WEATHER?!!"

Without fail, he would patiently explain what clothing I should be wearing. I took it for granted that he would always be there to decipher what was happening outside. I had a rude awakening when I went to college, although since I went to college in Southern California, it was usually sunny and warm.

Since then, I have learned to read the weather reports myself, and to figure out how many layers I need. I haven't thought about those early morning weather requests for a while.

Then, today, one of my 3rd graders came back when I had sent them down the hallway to recess.

"Tr. Julie - is it raining outside?" she asked. At this point in the day it was actually sunny with blue skies.

"What do you think? Can you make an inference about that?" I asked in my most annoying teacher fashion. She laughed and told me that yes, of course it wasn't raining.

A couple minutes later, she came back.

"Tr. Julie, do I need a sweatshirt?" I told her she was probably warm enough without it. 

I was asking myself why this little girl was asking me such obvious questions when it occurred to me to ask myself the same question. Why did I make such a point of asking my dad, all these years, to tell me how to dress for the weather, when I was perfectly capable of looking outside and figuring it out on my own?

In that moment, I realized that it was quite comforting to know that someone was always looking out for me, to protect me and be that line of defense between myself and the world. Even though I no longer have to ask my dad about the weather, I know he will always be that person for me. 

Brake for pedestrians!

Philly drivers tend to be pretty crazy, not unlike DC, NYC or Boston drivers. However, coming from DC, I'm a bit spoiled in the sense that even if cars honk at me, I know they will begrudgingly stop. Not in Philly. Today, while running an errand with a friend, we scooted behind a car, and the car almost backed into us without even noticing. In DC (where we both were raised) the car would have laid on the horn, but would have stopped. We hightailed it out of the road, shrieked, and looked back to realize that the driver had no idea he had almost hit us.

If you want the elevator to come, you have to push the button

Today at the doctor's office, I was waiting for the elevator to go down to the first floor. The doors opened, the elevator was full, and I decided to wait until the next one came around.

I was waiting for a couple minutes when an elderly gentleman came and stood beside me.

"Young lady," he said. "Are you waiting for the elevator?"

"Yes of course," I said, somewhat impatiently.

"Well, young lady, unless you push the button, that elevator isn't going to come anytime soon", he replied.

We both laughed a bit, and I agreed with him that it would be impossible for the elevator to come unless I pushed the button to actually call it. I had pushed it the first time, but when that one hadn't worked out, I had forgotten to push it again. It was one of those moments which immediately resonated with so many other areas of my life.

How badly do I want that elevator to come?

It's gray??!!!

There comes a time in every woman's life where she finds her first gray hair.

For some, it's in their early 20's. For some, it's not until their 40's. For me, it was today. I was sitting in the car with my friend, on our way to a hike, looking in the mirror to see if I had rubbed in my sunscreen, and suddenly, I found it.

I shrieked and pointed it out to my friend. Without skipping a beat, she reached over, and pulled it right out.

There are many reasons why I love this particular friend. But in that moment, I loved the fact that while I was mired in shock and disbelief, she immediately took action.

"That's just the beginning," she said cheerfully. She started talking about how many gray hairs she had found in her own hair. Listening to her, it suddenly didn't seem so bad.

$87.50

I'll freely admit that I am not the most organized person in the world. I lose things more often than I'd like; the greeting cards from a couple days ago being the tip of the iceberg. I'm also not always the best about returning library books on time. I've had to pay a couple dollars in fines on past occasions.

Yet this week, I gave a scathing lecture to my 3rd graders about responsibility when over half of them suddenly didn't have their library books to return to our school library. "Someone must have stolen it!" they protested, but I was in full-on teacher witch mode, and instead of going to the library, I made the entire class read silently for half an hour. I sent a reminder letter home to the parents that the school policy is for the kids to either replace the book or pay $6. When a kid came in the next day with $6 worth of quarters, I felt pretty bad.

Today, standing in line at the public library, I couldn't help but overhear the conversation between the librarian and the customer in front of me.

"$87.50!" the librarian said.

The man shrugged.

"I don't have to pay it now, right?" he said.

"Well, you realize you won't be able to check out any books until do, right?" the librarian asked sternly.

"Alright, alright," he said, as he ducked out the door.

In retrospect, my students and I both seemed pretty responsible in that moment...

From the mouths of spiders...

While reading Charlotte's Web by E.B. White to my 3rd graders today, I noticed that this book is pretty darn philosophical. Sure, on the surface it may be a cutesy story about a spider saving a pig's life (sorry for the spoilers), but really, it's a study of human nature.

During one conversation with Wilbur, Charlotte compares the  spider's web to the Queensborough Bridge. I can definitely see the resemblance. Charlotte boasts that it took humans 8 years to build that bridge, but that she can spin an entire web in just one night. Wilbur asks if bugs are also caught in that bridge. Charlotte replies,

"They don't catch anything. They just keep trotting back and forth across the bridge thinking there is something better on the other side. If they'd hang head-down at the top of the thing and wait quietly, maybe something good would come along. But no - with men it's rush, rush, rush every minute. I'm glad I'm a sedentary spider."

I paused for a moment to re-read that line aloud to my students. I asked them if they thought that people always rush, rush, rushed every minute, and they agreed. They thought there should be more time to just play or read.



Like Charlotte says,

"I know a good thing when I see it, and my web is a good thing. I stay put and wait for what comes."

Wow. This little spider really made me think twice about my rush, rush, rush life. I am constantly rushing. Mostly it's because I'm late. Yet if I really think about it, it's because I'm afraid that if I don't hurry, those good things won't come.

I really need to take Charlotte's last piece of advice to Wilbur; "Never hurry and never worry!"

Crazy flowers in the dark

Today was kind of a crazy day. I worked for my family program until 9:30, making my work day 14 hours long. I purchased greeting cards for two families in the program, promptly lost them, had to go buy replacements, and then found them. As I said in my broken Spanish to the custodian when she asked how I was; "Un poco loco". Yes, I was a bit crazy today. Notice that I can't even put the effort into finding synonyms for crazy right now.

So when I dragged myself home at 9:30, having formed blisters on both of my heels due to my feet being unused to wearing shoes without socks, I was not in the most friendly mood. I got close to my gate, and noticed other people walking in.

One woman just moved in downstairs, and I had met her previously. Her husband and daughter were new to me. I tried to muster up some enthusiasm and a warm greeting. It may have fallen a bit flat.

"Do you want to see the flowers we just planted?" her daughter asked. She may have been around 9 years old.

The first thought that popped into my head was that it was crazy to look at flowers in the dark. But then I noticed the look on her face, and the way she was practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Sure, let's see those flowers!" I said. She almost dragged me across the courtyard, and we looked at the flowers. I couldn't see much, but I told her they looked beautiful.

The joy on her face at that moment made the stresses of my day float away. I realized that maybe if I look hard enough, it's really not that crazy to try and see flowers in the dark. 

Making amends

Five years ago, I taught a very difficult student. Believe me, when I say difficult, I mean it. This particular young lady made that year miserable.

It wasn't that she was a behavior problem. In fact, on the contrary, she had the outward appearance of being a model student. Yet when my back was turned, I always felt as if she was making fun of me. Often she would bring up a completely inappropriate topic with such an innocent face that I could never really pinpoint why I felt she had done it on purpose. Even when she would say something as seemingly nice as, "Tr. Julie, looking fancy today", I was convinced she was secretly ragging on my clothing choices. When I made a mistake in front of the class, I felt as if she was adding it to a growing list in her mind. Her comments would stay with me for weeks afterwards. 

In short, she was a teacher's nightmare. She was that one student who just got under my skin. 

She graduated and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I got more teaching experience and grew a thicker skin. I taught her younger brother (her opposite), and would cautiously ask about her from time to time. One of my colleagues reported that she was doing well at her high school. She was suddenly helpful, respectful, and a student leader. I had made my peace with the situation - so I thought.

Then, she got cancer.

Well, first her mother died of cancer. Her older sister had previously died of cancer. This student and her brother were taken in by legal guardians. Their entire lives started falling apart.

Suddenly, my former student was hospitalized. My entire school started rallying around her family. Staff took trips to the hospital, made them dinners, and started donating whatever they could to help out.

I made several dinners, and made a couple of donations. I signed the cards and contributed for the flowers. 

Yet I couldn't bring myself to visit her in the hospital. I knew it was the right thing to do, but our weird, tension-filled interactions from years past just stayed in my mind. What cutting words would she have for me, I thought, if I walked into her hospital room?

She's made an amazing recovery, and has now been cancer-free for a year. She's a senior in high school, heading off to a bright future at St. Joe's on a full scholarship to become a nurse.

I had coffee with her today. She had come by the school a couple weeks ago to see her old teachers, and I hadn't gotten the chance to talk to her. I felt like I needed to just come clean and apologize for not being there when she needed support the most.

The young woman I had coffee with today was completely different from that manipulative student of years past. We joked about how awkward and uncomfortable our relationship was, she admitted to kind of being a jerk, and I apologized for letting it get to me. She very gracefully dismissed my insistance that I should have come to visit her in the hospital, and said she was happy we were in touch now.

The sly, sneaky, provoking student was completely eclipsed by this sweet, compassionate, determined young woman. I couldn't believe it had taken me 5 years to be able to put my petty insecurities aside. After all, she was 14 when she was in 8th grade. I'm quite positive that few are their best selves when they are in middle school.

It was and continues to be a truly humbling moment.