Day 5 Mothers

My students and I have introduced ourselves, shared personal information like address, telephone numbers and our birthdays, but we still can't really communicate. However on our way to the computer lab, A. tells me that K. has six children. I stare at that young African face, shake my head, and spout, "No way!." At the most I'd figured her age to be twenty-five. "And I have grandchild," K. tells me proudly. "New."

I don't know what to say. She's certainly older than she looks. As I look more closely into A.'s face I see a much-lived life. Instead of a young woman she might be in her late thirties. But this has happened to me as a teacher many times before.

The first time was in Shanghai.
"Sue, do we Chinese all look alike to you?" asked one of my Chinese students.
"No, not at all," I honestly answered. But what I didn't tell her was that after a twenty-five year career teaching public school students I could only see the familiar mix of teenage anxiety and anticipation while standing before my Ph.D. scientists.