Ticker-Tapeless Parade

All Tuesdays forthwith (until the end of May) are for Yeager's Teens, which, aside from its generic youth-promoting title, is obviously just the kind of 'Children are the future!' kind of deal that I would sign up for. Don't get me wrong- that's exactly what it is, and I love it, but it has its perks.

One being more than obvious to a highschool student with 2 hours and change of lunch and gym clogging up her schedule. That student being me, I jumped at the chance to miss the long-awaited badminton tourney in gym.

The second perk is less obvious to the cold-hearted, 'Bah Humbug'-ing crowd. That perk would be being around children. Their truthful outlook on things is refreshing and almost therapeutic. Speaking for our classes of course. One in 'Muh Holly' and one in my old hometown, (15 minutes from my new house,) Yuppieville, En-Jay; both are surprisingly innocent! The other groups had kids who hit on them and talked about the unfair high price of cigarettes. Second grade! Well, either way, it's all new to me, and quite frankly, fun.

We put on a skit today, but our skit illustrating Respect flopped. We needed some Aretha to back us up. The second school, (overcrowded classrooms and all,) however, being the foster home for my developing child mind, was like truly being at home. Fortune smiled upon me today, and assigned my group to my 1st grade teacher's class. Seeing that I had skipped Kindergarten into the middle of the year of 1st grade, I assumed that I would've been remembered.

Funny how I wasn't. No sarcasm, though; it was funny. Ms. Pelcak's finger pointed right past me; I swear I could've felt its path arc right around my cheekbone and past me entirely, until it stopped at Katy Kirk. Well, she told her she looked familiar, and it wasn't until later that I admitted to the second graders that some of my golden years, or if you will, 'salad days' were spent in Yuppieville Elementary School with Ms. Pelcak as a teacher. Her automaton, paper-grading side halted at those words (for although her systematic eyes and hand worked steadily at the pile of spelling tests, her ears were perked up as to our dictation).

She asked, almost apologetically but most probably curiously, as to what my name was, and I told her. Jackpot. It registered in her face like a firework salvo. We could all see it, and in the next second our arms were around each other, and I could hear behind my ear the exultant cry, "Oh, I'm so sorry!" (And she was.) "...You've grown- changed- so much." (And I had. Vertically, not so much, but sufficiently enough. In other ways, not too drastically. Although, the bangs I had strived for years to grow out had just this year been cut into place, only slightly longer.) Then the release and the proud parent once-over. "I'll have to find your second grade picture. I'm sure I still have it." (A few clicks of my brain later and I stifle a good-natured eye roll and groan. Those Asian-child bangs will haunt me for the rest of my life.) "Class, take a good look at her, and when I bring it in, we'll see who can pick her out." (A girl pulls out a highlighter. Yellow, how fitting, I think looking down at the skin on my arms, wishing Michelle, my dry-humored friend, was around. The girl cracks a smile and tells me to hold still and that she has to draw me.)

The festivities are over, the automaton has resumed, and my teacher takes her seat on the side of the room. This time, though, she is smiling to herself, and I'm ready to break out a grin.

We're there until x:48, our advisor had warned. Best not to get into anything. Which is why, after our lesson plan a girl had to ask (eagerly, holding a piece of paper out in front of her) if we could "sign our autographs." Kids, huh? All of the Yeager's Teens shift and sneak nervous glances at the clock. Katy, the only one with an answer, (maybe not the most resonable one) says sure. Sure. Our fate is sealed, and with that the other 20-something, close to 30 kids pull out their journals, folders, composition notebooks, looseleaf papers. Everyone spreads out and does their best to finish in the alloted time, glancing nervously at the clock and others as they do so. I relished the moment, and took time to make small talk with the kids. If only I could campaign like this, I'm thinking, my mind wandering next year's vulnerable position as Treasurer.

After the torrent of paper, pencils, and choose-your-favorite-color adventures- Katy signals our departure. The kids have already settled down with their books- titling and dating the pages like kids who've just unwrapped the newest, coolest edition of Pokemon cards (circa 5 years ago, that is). We're worn out like the Pokemon trend itself, so there is nothing to do but wave Au Revoir and promise things for next Tuesday. And for me, hug Ms. Pelcak and talk and exchange thank you's.

Even my teacher's reprimands upon my late arrival couldn't bring me down. Being out in the prime of the day, actually looking down to talk to people, being at the top of my game in school- it was the best day in the longest.