Old Friends

A few days ago I was in line at the gas station when Harper and Ainsley's former kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Mattox, walked through the door.

"Hey there!" she said. "How are you?"

"Great," I replied. No master of small talk I quickly offered, "Hey, the girls are out in the car."

Without hesitation she turned on her heel and headed right back out the door. When I came out I found the girls filling her in on the past couple of years - new teachers, middle school, Christmas plans. Because both Harper and Ainsley switched schools to be with me they really haven't seen Mrs. Mattox all that much over the past few years. A few moments later Tricia made her way over to the van and we all exchanged pleasantries before the girls received one final hug from their old friend.

Seeing old students is always so wonderful. When I walk my third graders over to the middle school for lunch I often happen across someone I taught just a few years ago. I can always count on a big smile and, occasionally, even a warm hug.

I've been lucky in that I have had a few students over the years who've worked to keep in touch with me. I receive letters in the mail letting me know about family trips, e-mails from parents letting me know their children are keeping at some of things we used to do together in class, or phone calls breaking sad news about family tragedies. I doubt the kids or parents could ever know how important this correspondence is. It's not a "thank you" teachers want so much as an opportunity to see how it all turns out. Or, better yet, to keep up  or rekindle old friendships.

When I was in college I was told that under no circumstances what-so-ever should a teacher become friends with their students. "Friendly, yes. Friends, no." It's a faulty logic built unsteadily upon a simple truth - the teacher is the authority figure. I tend to remember that at the time I agreed with this notion of keeping our kids at arm's length. At least, I did until I actually became a teacher and found it near impossible to subscribe to such an outdated philosophy. How can we spend more than a thousand hours together each year and not swap stories, share laughs, and grow so close that the last day of school is as bitter as it is sweet?

My first couple of years teaching were spent in St. Louis. Each year I had sixteen new faces greet me on the first day of school and over the course of one hundred eighty days we read, talked, explored, played, wondered, and laughed together. While I was still trying to figure out how to be a teacher I learned quickly how important it was to get to know my kids as more than just readers or writers or mathematicians. I learned to get to know them as people. As a result of this, and  contrary to what I had been taught in those undergraduate classes, I can look back now and see that some of my favorite friendships in life took place in that second grade classroom. Friendships that, yes, were different from those with other adults - but friendships all the same.

A few days ago I had the  privilege to reconnect with one of the kids from those second grade years. Claudia, who greeted me on the first day by warning me "I'm Rose's sister but we're nothing alike!", was the type of kid you'd want your own children to be like - funny, thoughtful, curious, and quirky. She wasn't like any of the other kids and, getting to know her, you'd never want her to be. I completely fell in love with her. In the years since leaving St. Louis I've wondered many, many times what happened to her. So when out of nowhere last week I happened across her mother Lori (one of the nicest people you'd ever hope to meet) I was in a state of near-shock. We chatted for about twenty minutes and after exchanging contact information she said "Claudia's coming into town tomorrow. If you're free I know she'd love to see you." Our time in St. Louis this Christmas was so short and tightly scheduled but how could I possibly pass up this opportunity. The only time we had available was early Sunday morning but Lori assured me "Don't worry. For you she'll get up early!"

So on Sunday morning Tricia and I met Lori, Rose, and Claudia at the Bread Company and spent what was easily the best two hours of my entire trip. We shared a few old stories and caught up on the last ten years. Claudia is now twenty-one years old and working at Indiana University. Rose works in the cancer center at Barnes Jewish Hospital. And Lori has another little one making his way through New City School - currently in the same classroom where I was once Rose's student teacher. Go figure.

As random and unexpected as this was I can only hope it marks the beginning of friendships that are both old and new.