It’s midSeptember again. I’m learning to know a new group of children very different from the last class I had. They are young and readable and impressionable, so impressionable. And I’m learning, always learning; maybe even more than they are. I always feel this way in September, like I know so little of the world and of myself.
Super Innocent eyes equates to guilty consciences. Reprimands are mostly met with an excuse, always beginning with “but: But he made me do it,” or “but you never told me..” And when I demand a dollar because a little child talks out loud, the child inevitably turns angry. That’s what I’ve learned. I’m not trained to read people, but I learn on the job. And what I see kinda scares me. I see me.
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