>This morning was my first day of grade six. I ran into my grade six teacher at church (yay for avoiding phone calls) and asked if she needed a helper one day a week. She still teaches at my old school, so it was a very strange experience this morning.
The first of the strangeness was parking in the parking lot. When you’re in elementary school, you never think that someday maybe you’ll be parking in the teachers’ parking lot. It’s not a thought that crosses your mind.
Now, this is me, the last time all the teachers at Northlake saw me:
yes, hello boy hair. And I look like a freaking child. And I was maybe 4’10” (that’s a big maybe). But that’s besides the point. The point is I look loads different. No one recognized me. Within 30 seconds of being in the school, I ran into one of my TAs from kindergarten to grade 8, one of my grade 8 teachers, my grade five teacher, and the secretary (we were buddies). They stared because they knew they should recognize me, but didn’t. I heard, “Oh my, you’re a young woman now” and “wow, you grew!” over and over. It was funny. Strange though, when you walk down the hall and see all these teachers you know, but they don’t recognize you. I imagine that’s what it feels like to be invisible.
I found Mrs. Crapdock…oops I mean Craddock, (art teacher) hanging up art in the halls. I was sad to hear that one of my favourite teachers, Mr. Rotozinski, has retired. Evil Mr. Meiskie is still there though! He’s so smiley for being a yeller. It’s so awesome to be back at that school.
Kindergarten and grade six are so hugely different. In kindergarten, the kids don’t shut up. Ever. In grade six, they are quiet. They listen. Grade six kids aren’t as cute though. I think I said earlier that I thrive in organized chaos, so I was a little bored this morning during the lesson. Tomorrow is back to the kindies. I love those little gaffers!
Side note: I hate photocopiers almost as much as I hate vacuums (and I loathe vacuums). They don’t like me, and waste the teachers’ copy credits. I think anyone who looks at me must think, “oh, she looks like a good photocopy person.” Heck, in Mexico I did an hour of photocopying. In MEXICO. Ridiculous.