This time of year, both teachers and students start thinking about next year. The kids are asking older friends and siblings about each teacher, watching us in the halls with our classes- and we’re doing the same to them! It’s strange to think about having a new group of kids after what feels like so long with the current one.
Last week, a student in the grade I’ll have next year stopped me in the hall.
“You’re Puerto Rican, too, right?” He asked earnestly, gesturing at himself to indicate that he was.
I am not, in fact, Puerto Rican. When I explained that I wasn’t, he looked alarmed.
“But you’re Mexican, or Dominican, or something Spanish like that?” He pressed.
When I answered in the negative again (apologetically, as he was clearly distressed), he let out a deep sigh, covered his face with his hand, lifted it to eye me closer, and then pinched the bridge of his nose in a surprisingly adult gesture, sighing again.
“Ok,” he said firmly, clearly having come to some sort of decision, “Well if I get you next year, we’re just gonna tell my mom you are.”