Me...Through the Eyes of My Students

I do not use a cane.

I do not wear clothes that look like that.

(Except that the t-shirt in this drawing is so hilarious and so perfect for me that, when the student artist who thought it up showed it to me Friday afternoon, I had to set down my actual cup of coffee so that I could throw my head back in laughter and run across the hall to my co-worker who owns a cricut and ask her to make me one to wear on casual Fridays. 

Of course I’ll post a pic when it’s done.  Glad you asked.)

I do not look like Sloth from The Goonies or like one of those people who are really top-heavy with little stringy pencil legs (not that there’s anything wrong with that). 

I also don’t have the facial features this particular student artist was referring to when he approached me in my classroom while I was sitting at my computer entering grades and said, “Turn this way…I’ve got to make sure I get all 5 of your chins.”

But I think that was the whole point.

And that’s talent.

I’m framing this baby.


***A couple of random thoughts I had while writing this post:

1.)  Notice that in the drawing, I used to be holding a cup of coffee. When I asked him why he had erased that part, he replied, “I really wanted you to be drinking coffee in the picture since you’re always drinking coffee.  But I messed that part up so I had to go a different route.” 

We both studied the picture for a few more moments and then I said, “I think it looks more like you messed up my face.”  He cocked his head, squinting his eyes in concentration at the drawing before looking straight at me with a big grin.  “Oh, no,” he said.  “I’m really happy with the way your face turned out.  Looks just like you.”

2.)  There are days when I look up toward the heavens, do the Sign of the Cross, and ask God why I ended up where I am in life.  Usually I do it in front of the students and for some reason, instead of taking me seriously and praying along with me for my lost soul, they laugh.  Sometimes the prayer is just a look heavenward and a sigh; other times I’m a bit more vocal and I’ll say something like, “Why, God, why?”  He never really answers, so I figure this is exactly where I’m supposed to be (maybe due to something horrible I did in a past life or something?) and I just end up showing back up at work the next day, coffee in hand and a smile on my face.




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