First and foremost, I'd like to point out the newest technological advance to my blog, and that is the large photograph that I included. You should know that I am quite proud of myself. After 1.5 years of blogging, I finally figured out how to upload a picture onto my blog. (Some could say, I'm a little bit slow on the uptake).
Today was field day at school. Do you remember field day in elementary school? If you have any athletic bone in your body, then you probably remember it to be the best day of the whole school year. Teachers and students divided up into different teams, playing games and activities outside, in celebration of a school year almost through!
I arrived to work in a yellow t-shirt, After all, I was a member of the yellow team. (An aside: My yellow t-shirt from the University of Michigan, said GO BLUE, UMichigan's slogan). Note: A yellow t-shirt, with the phrase Go Blue proved to be very confusing for my students. I wore a pair of soffee shorts and sneakers. My hair was pulled back in a pony-tail. Essentially, I was in my Camp Schodack uniform. And, so I ask all of you, dressing that way for work!? What could be better? That's right, nothing.
Field Day was lots of fun, but completely exhausting. Teachers and students played alongside one another for six hours in the blazing hot sun. (I hope I got a tan). But, perhaps the most eventful part of my day was when Eric, a six year old, first grader came over to say hi to me. I asked Eric if he was having a good time at field day. Eric opened his mouth to answer my question, but instead threw up into his hand. Startled, (and disgusted), I asked Eric if he was alright. In the sweetest six year old voice that I've ever heard, he said, "Sometimes when I burp, I fro up a little too, right in my hand, just like this."
Yes, I can see that.
Field Day involves the whole school, grades K-8. I love seeing the middle school kids, (as of next Wednesday, my first class ever will be 8th graders, holay molay!) (Also, as of next Wednesday, I will have completed my fourth year of teaching). Excuse me!?!
I look at my former students, current middle schoolers, with a great fondness, and with a great sense of empathy. I looked out onto a sea of dirty teen moustaches, long lanky limbs, and braces. This is probably the worst that these kids are ever going to look. Something about that is comforting to me.
As I walked home from work today, smelly, in my t-shirt, with a messy ponytail, and yellow paint (all over my face, arms and legs), I passed another girl on the street-- around my age, looking moderately disheveled, face covered in blue paint. We looked at each other, and just like that...we both knew. We shared a secret smile in the knowledge, that we were both teachers, absolutely exhausted after a long and sweaty field day.
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