This afternoon I decided to visit my 5th grade teacher at my old elementary school. This is probably pathetic, but 5th grade was one of my favorite years of school. I was in a class with all of my best friends from kindergarten and we were finally the big kids on the playground. This was before middle school, so people were still nice, and this was before puberty, so people weren't nearly as self-conscious. Also, we had the best teacher. He taught us how to figure out percentages by having us calculate our scores and standings in the volleyball league he organized for us. He let us play hacky sack and taught us how to play the guitar. I actually liked going to class.
As I drove over there, the memories started flooding back. I drove past our old apartment building where we lived for ten years and past my best friend's old house which she moved from nine years ago.
As I got out of the car and walked towards the playground, I detected the sweet scent of the jasmine that always spilled over the schoolyard fence. I saw the kids playing basketball on the same blacktop that my friends and I used to play on. I saw the same old courtyard where we used to plant tomatoes in the garden boxes. It was where we got to eat lunch when it was sunny enough. Then, I wandered over to my old classroom and peeked in the window. The lights were out. They were watching a movie.
I decided to sit on the bench outside and wait a few minutes until school was out. I sat in the same wind-swept corridor where we used to keep our backpacks. Looking at the kids' schoolbags hanging on the hooks, I saw art projects and kitten folders sticking out. Not much has changed since I was there.
When it was almost time for school to get out, a teacher walked out of the classroom. He wasn't my teacher. I figured, "Great. I just waited for 15 minutes outside of the wrong classroom." I was about to leave, when my teacher walked out. It turns out it was still his classroom. He invited me in and introduced me to his class. It was pretty cool that after 9 years, he still remembered me. He asked the kids if they had any questions for me. Here are a few of my favorites:
Girl: What's college like?
Me: That's a good question. For me, it's one of the best things that has ever happened. You get to meet a lot of great people, learn a lot of interesting things, and you get to make your own decisions. You learn how to be more independent.
Girl: When were you in 5th grade?
Me: Hmmm...1999-2000.
Girl: Wow! We weren't even born yet!
Me: Oh. I see...
Boy: When you were in 5th grade, did he (our teacher) have black hair?
[As you may have guessed, it's no longer as dark]
Me: Um... (awkwardness quickly setting in)
Rest of class: Hey! That's rude! Why would you ask that?!
Teacher (good-naturedly): It's still black, don't you think?
Rest of class: Yeah. Uh huh.
Girl: It's salt and pepper!
Kids say the darndest things, don't they? They're very chatty. Very open. Very honest.
If you'll pardon the cliché, it seemed like it was just yesterday that I was in their shoes. Now, I sort of feel like I'm a hundred years old, with kids half my age asking me what life was like when I was younger. I'll take it with a grain of salt and laugh it off. All in all, it was great dropping in and remembering the good times.
As I drove over there, the memories started flooding back. I drove past our old apartment building where we lived for ten years and past my best friend's old house which she moved from nine years ago.
As I got out of the car and walked towards the playground, I detected the sweet scent of the jasmine that always spilled over the schoolyard fence. I saw the kids playing basketball on the same blacktop that my friends and I used to play on. I saw the same old courtyard where we used to plant tomatoes in the garden boxes. It was where we got to eat lunch when it was sunny enough. Then, I wandered over to my old classroom and peeked in the window. The lights were out. They were watching a movie.
I decided to sit on the bench outside and wait a few minutes until school was out. I sat in the same wind-swept corridor where we used to keep our backpacks. Looking at the kids' schoolbags hanging on the hooks, I saw art projects and kitten folders sticking out. Not much has changed since I was there.
When it was almost time for school to get out, a teacher walked out of the classroom. He wasn't my teacher. I figured, "Great. I just waited for 15 minutes outside of the wrong classroom." I was about to leave, when my teacher walked out. It turns out it was still his classroom. He invited me in and introduced me to his class. It was pretty cool that after 9 years, he still remembered me. He asked the kids if they had any questions for me. Here are a few of my favorites:
Girl: What's college like?
Me: That's a good question. For me, it's one of the best things that has ever happened. You get to meet a lot of great people, learn a lot of interesting things, and you get to make your own decisions. You learn how to be more independent.
Girl: When were you in 5th grade?
Me: Hmmm...1999-2000.
Girl: Wow! We weren't even born yet!
Me: Oh. I see...
Boy: When you were in 5th grade, did he (our teacher) have black hair?
[As you may have guessed, it's no longer as dark]
Me: Um... (awkwardness quickly setting in)
Rest of class: Hey! That's rude! Why would you ask that?!
Teacher (good-naturedly): It's still black, don't you think?
Rest of class: Yeah. Uh huh.
Girl: It's salt and pepper!
Kids say the darndest things, don't they? They're very chatty. Very open. Very honest.
If you'll pardon the cliché, it seemed like it was just yesterday that I was in their shoes. Now, I sort of feel like I'm a hundred years old, with kids half my age asking me what life was like when I was younger. I'll take it with a grain of salt and laugh it off. All in all, it was great dropping in and remembering the good times.