A tale of two streets
My school is mixed. Ethnically, racially, socio-economically. We enroll students from across the City.
Saturday I was walking in Manhattan, long walk from the Upper East Side to Houston. Looking a bit scruffy. In a fancy-ish neighborhood I see the mother of a student. She’s dressed up. As we near each other I try to make eye contact, and say her name (and notice that her husband is next to her), and… And? And nothing. She looks right through me, like I’m invisible.
Yesterday I’m on the street by the subway, near my apartment, here in the Bronx, on my cell, outside a diner, waiting for an order. “Mr. 2718!” I look up at a woman, and realize it is a student. From the first class I ever taught. (That was at a large, regular Bronx high school). We talk about people from that class – I know where a few are, she knows many more. She’s off to teach English in Japan next year, and then high school social studies here in NY the year after that.
We are interrupted “2718!” It’s a neighborhood kid. When I was a new teacher I spent time hanging out with young college-age students on the corner, and sometimes their younger friends and siblings. This kid was younger. Anyway, he finally finished high school and is working supervising concessions at the Stadium, waiting to be called by Sanitation…
It’s nice when people say hi.
JD2718 
I love having kids and parents say hi to me. I live in a REALLY small community so I see them all the time. The best one was seeing a mother of a student inline at Starbucks, and telling her about the test I was going to give that day. She called her son at home to tell him about it. :) It gives you a nice feeling knowing people see you.
I used to meet my mom in Flushing to go shopping. Since I teach lots of Asian kids, we used to run into them all over the place. My mom used to get such a kick out of the kids, she loved seeing how much they liked me. I’ve run into my students all over the world– like it too.
The funniest story–I walked into the Pink Pussy Cat boutique in the Village with some friends a few years ago. From behind the counter we heard “Hello Mrs. G***” She was talking to my friend. Instead of being embarrassed about being seen in a sex shop, my friend just said “I’m glad I trained you for a good job.”
I am glad I read my spam before deleting it!
Cute story.
My mother’s cousin taught in British Columbia, at a college. One day, appropriately unclad on a clothing optional beach, he realized the young lady walking towards him, also appropriately unclad, was a student. What should he do? What should he do? What should he do?
Fortunately, she was not panicking. Hello Mr. X______, she stopped, smiled, and walked on.