#22. Poetic Justice: Out of the mouths of babes.

Married people like flattery: Since making the move from Miami to Charlotte, our biggest challenge (and biggest blessing) has been employment. We uprooted our lives and careers in the middle of a historic econ-crisis. Needless to say, certain family members thought we were loco. Sure, it was an 800-mile leap of faith. But is there any other way to live?

Now in his second-week of teaching elementary art, John returns home with pockets full of handwritten notes and candid renderings done by the young Crayola creatives. Yesterday, a first grader drew a diagram of the brain complete with labeled lobes.(Perhaps the show should be called are you smarter than a 1^st grader?)

Today, John received a poem from one of his brighter pupils—a writer, duh. Upon reading the student’s epigrammatic words of wisdom, my hubby remarked, “Oh, I gotta take this home to show my wife. She’ll never believe what you wrote.” Fast-forward a few hours: We’re standing in the kitchen and John hands me a folded 8.5 x 11 piece of paper. I open it up to read a pithy acrostic of our last name. Unfortunately, the kid lost me from the get-go.

He began with: “Mr. Cool.”
And then there was this doozy: “Optimistic.”
But he saved the best for last: “Happy.”

Clearly this elementary scholar never got the memo. Behind the scenes, our family affectionately refers to John as “Uncle Grumpy.” I guess what’s true for the corporate cage is true for the classroom, everyone has two reputations—one to uphold and one to hide. But unlike suits and nine-to-fivers, teachers aren’t in it for the moo-la-la. Speaking from 15.5 years of schooling, only the best teach from their hearts…and unless this poetically inclined student is suffering from delusions, I couldn’t be more proud of my man.

Comments

[Julie]

I'm still confused about the "Mr. Cool" part? muahahahaha :)