Some of you may be surprised by this news, but teachers aren’t people. They are public school furniture and do not function outside of school hours. Just ask any first grader.
My first teaching job in Vegas was 1st grade remedial reading. One of my students was a fire-haired, freckle faced, jack-in-the-box named Jordan. Jordan couldn’t read because he had yet to expand his attention span beyond 20 seconds.
Jordan talked frequently about his momma cat and her kittens and it came to be that I was convinced I need one. Jordan’s mother brought the cat to me after school one day. Jordan had picked the kitten out. It was fire-haired, just like him.
The next morning in class Jordan’s attention span seemed to be even shorter than usual. He kept bouncing out of his chair and crawling around the room. At one point his face was pressed to the floor, his butt was up in the air and he was trying to shove his head under the wardrobe. I snapped, “Jordan! What are you doing?”
He said, “Looking for the kitten.”
“The kitten doesn’t live here,” I said. “Now come and sit down.”
He plopped back on his butt, still sitting on the carpet, and demanded, “Where does it live?”
“In my apartment,” I told him. “He’s probably curled up on my bed sound asleep.”
Jordon frowned skeptically. “You have an apartment?”
Harvey, sitting on my left queried in disbelief, “You have a bed?”
Bridgette, clearly in awe, whispered, “Do you sleep?”
I assured all six of my students that I had an apartment. I slept. I ate food. I did dishes, took showers, watched TV and did all of the normal things other people do.
Juan Jose, despite having touched me many times, slowly reaced out his fingers and touched my hand. His eyes widened in surprise. “She’s really real!” He breathed.