Strange Encounters

My mother will sometimes brag to a Spanish speaking employee at Rosewood that I have taught 30,000 students during my career. Math is definitely not her strong suit.....but I probably have taught close to 4,000 kids, so it's not uncommon for me to read about, hear about, or come into contact with former students.

One of the joys of retirement is that I no longer run into current students at Walgreens, in the grocery store, or in the pizza joint. The former students I see in those local hangouts either don't recognize me or are quite pleasant. No more dealing with students ducking down the next aisle to avoid having to say hi or, worse yet, embarrassing those students who happen to be with a parent who wants a parent-teacher-student conference in the grocery aisle.

Then there are the kids I read about: the delightful wedding announcements where I find out that "Fred" who never did his homework in 8th grade is now an attorney or brain surgeon, the "college news" section where I see that "Matilda" who was afraid to speak Spanish is spending her junior year in Ecuador and, of course, the police blotter where I see which former students have been busted on drug or alcohol charges. Some surprises, some not.

Then there are the students - past or present - who have appeared in very strange places in my life.

• the totally mortified student who happened to be in the same small group of people at the top of the St. Louis arch sometime back in the 70's. There's no escaping your teacher when you have to wait with the group for the next elevator down!
• the even more mortified student who happened to be in line with Ken and me at Hearst castle in California on our honeymoon! The poor boy's entire body was quivering with the thoughts he had about what we were doing on that trip!
• little 7th grade Doug who ended up being a highly respected oncologist! My poor mom was understandable nervous about her treatment and didn't exactly appreciate how "Doug" and I spent most of the visit reminiscing about Chippewa Jr. High! (The big relief of that visit was finding out that Robert Roberts had changed his first name!)

The ultimate encounter, however, happened just last week. As I'm calmly getting my nails done, the manicurist says, "You don't remember me, do you?" Once Yuri told me her name I did remember her and we enjoyed catching up on her life. HOWEVER, I was horror struck throughout our conversation because this was the SECOND time she had worked on me. The previous week she had given me a pedicure. To say it's mortifying to have a former student cut my toenails, massage my calves, and cut ugly cuticles is putting it very mildly!

I thought my pedicure encounter was about the most disconcerting ex-student meeting possible until I related this story to teacher friends at breakfast today. Seems one of my friends was in the process of delivering a baby when the intern - you got it, a former student - walked in to help.