Given that I was in a good mood because it was a sunny Friday morning and the class was surprisingly amiable, quiet, and diligent in completing a math exercise, I brought up the fact that I'd signed up for a 10k race in late March, and expressed hope that some of them could turn out to watch the race and support their teacher. Not a great idea. The orderly classroom immediately devolved into some sort of mob scene, as nearly every student had a question or opinion about my performance in the race.** Here are some actual questions and statements I managed to pick out from the cacophony...I actually had to ask them to repeat some of these so that I could write them down for the purposes of this blog.
-"What if you die?"
-"What if other white and black mans beat you?"
-"Is your family gonna be there? Is they white too?"
-"Hell no I ain't watchin that!"
-"What if a Mexican beats you?"
-"You gonna die, Mr. Martin!"***
*Seriously, why would I tell my kids my actual age when they ask? I always reply that I'm 58, and they accept it as my real age without question at this point. Why 58? I guess it just sounds sort of authoritative.
**As much shit as I caught in college for maybe being a little too competitive - typically at drinking games - I can honestly report that I've got nothing on my kids in this department, and I think this is why they cared so much about the race. They love competition to the point that the most pointless and undesirable chore can be turned into a fun game as long as there is a winner or loser. If I say something like "Robneka just picked up seven pieces of trash in a minute. Who here thinks they can do better?", every single student will immediately start crawling around on the floor to grab bits of trash. I've even seen N'Dea**** - my most shy and mild-mannered student - elbow other kids in the face for the chance to pick up a lollipop wrapper.
***Possibly unrelated to the race, in retrospect.
****Like the subcontinent.
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