(no subject)
On Thursday, I ran into my favorite teacher of all time at Barnes and Noble (or as I like to call it the Hub of the Lynchburg area). He was my fourth grade history/english teacher, Mr E--some of you may know him-- and I just adored his class. It was one of the defining things in my life; I had always loved writing and I always knew I was better than the average kid in my class when it came to crafting a story, but his class was like a first set of tools. It was like I had been fingerpainting and he gave me a brush and canvas. It was a jumping off point; after that class I understood that this was something I loved to do and I was not half bad at it.
Anyway, I saw him and he didn't remember my name, but he could remember my parents and a short story I wrote, and was able to describe Fourth Grade Kate perfectly. I told him my name and he told me I've changed a lot, that I'm "too cute" now, that us kids need to stop "morphing" and just stay the same. College? he asked. I told him about GW and political communications and about how I'm working for the Neighborhood Development foundation this summer and he just smiled and said, "You'll be great. You're a smart girl, you'll do great in school and I know I'll read about you one day." I said I hope so.
It's funny how a fourth grade teacher with a Nike check on his clock, a Troll doll attached to a TV with a rubber band bunjee cord, a meter stick, and a helluva a personality can change you so much.
In other news, I hit a car--no damage done. It made me want to write a poem. Only a few more weeks left...
Anyway, I saw him and he didn't remember my name, but he could remember my parents and a short story I wrote, and was able to describe Fourth Grade Kate perfectly. I told him my name and he told me I've changed a lot, that I'm "too cute" now, that us kids need to stop "morphing" and just stay the same. College? he asked. I told him about GW and political communications and about how I'm working for the Neighborhood Development foundation this summer and he just smiled and said, "You'll be great. You're a smart girl, you'll do great in school and I know I'll read about you one day." I said I hope so.
It's funny how a fourth grade teacher with a Nike check on his clock, a Troll doll attached to a TV with a rubber band bunjee cord, a meter stick, and a helluva a personality can change you so much.
In other news, I hit a car--no damage done. It made me want to write a poem. Only a few more weeks left...