know thyself, harpie
The kids are in bed after a long, comfortable chat about their lives. They’ve very grown-up, but they’re also still kids, so there’s an interesting mix of “hmmm, interesting” and “aw! you’re so adorable!” (I keep that last one to myself).
The eleven year old says:
“Kids have no power in the world. We can’t vote and we have no money. I don’t know whether it’s better to try to band together or try to get parents to get things done for us.”
Too true, kiddo! I’d give him the vote. He’s thoughtful and he cares.
I received a participation grade this week which was satisfying (the grade itself) and disturbing (the comments). Apparently, while I think I’m extraordinarily easy-going and mild, I was actually being all contradictory. This was said in the nicest way possible: “I mean to remark on your intellectual courage in disagreeing so competently and carefully when you disagree with the readings, or our collective interpretation of them” - a pretty typical comment. (And lest you think this was in regards to some specific thing, “being contradicted so often” also came up. “So often”!)
Hilarious moments of self-revelation abounded.
Me: Wow, my professor got some weird impression of me in that class, she thought I was contradictory!
Fellow student: [blank stare]
Me: You know, because I’m actually pretty agreeable
Fellow student: [blank stare]
Me: Take a look at this evaluation! Isn’t that crazy?
Ulysses: What do you mean?
Me: The contradictory thing.
Ulysses: [blank stare]
Me: Hey kid, isn’t this weird? My professor thinks I sort of generally disagree with things in class.
The Boy: I can see that.
Me: What? I’m usually so agreeable!
The Boy: About what?
Me: About everything.
The Boy: No, your professor is right. I mean, I wouldn’t have come out and said it, but you’re definitely a disagreer. That’s what you do.
Me: All the time?
The Boy: All. The. Time.
Mia: Yeah!