Cycles run my life.
Much of my life is planned to the minute. There is a beginning and a redoing. And things are never done. So, in this beginning of the year, it is like many others. There are children I’ve taught before. In each of my classes, I have at least one student who I will teach for the third year. They know me. They know my really, really bad jokes. They know that it is not unusual for me to lie on tables, jump on chairs, or high five people who are just trying to raise their hands. They know. They’ve done this before, bless their hearts.
There are new children, too. The ones who are terrified of me, well, because, I am scary. They don’t know why I am shaking their hands when they say “Oh, my God” (my name nor title is God). They seem not to be able to understand why I don’t seem to understand the “E-word” (the word easy is NOT allowed. For real. Because you have no right to talk about a task, only about yourself). And I even heard one turn to another and ask “is she ALWAYS this amped?” To which, as if right on cue, responded with “you’ll get used to it” in time with me. These little ones will know soon, and best effort to them.
It’s a cycle. Everything cycles.
And both generations of students will be able to pass their knowledge to my future students. Hopefully, they’ll learn some math in the process.