I looked across the table at the student as she chewed her hair and made a politically savvy joke to her mother. I looked down and quickly rescanned the report in front of me. I had read it more than once and highlighted the important parts. I poised my pen to take notes and then I looked at her again.
I was all business. So was she.
And so we started. That little dance of question and answer.
Do you like school? yes and no
What's your favorite subject? it varies
What do you like to do for fun? torture my mom (ha ha, right mom? that is now my hobby.)
On and on I went and she went right along. She answered and asked and parried and laughed. Her mom sat beside her wringing her hands. Then we got to the coup de grace; the question of all questions.....
How would you describe yourself? well, i am not sure how to describe me but my grandmother once told me that i am a "quirky little duck."
She smiled enthusiastically, defiantly. She knew she was not the highlighted parts of that report.
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Those words have been floating around my head for some time now. They struck a chord. Good Lord, they have become part of my vernacular.
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I know we all do our best good when we see each other with kind eyes. I know we all live our best lives when we put aside the junk and engage. But it is hard to resist the lure of the label and the busy-ness of organizing our little sphere of influence.
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These were my thoughts of the last few weeks. But here was my thought in that moment:
i wonder if she thinks i am this name tag in pumps or does she see that i am just an older larger quirky little duck?
Luckie me to always find the people in my life to teach me what I need to remember.
