Ask me about my luck. I got a convoluted theory for you. Long story short: a whole lot of random chaotic bad luck, but when my good luck comes around, I always hit it big.
So for our second ACJ class—probably the most important class—I was late, and late due to the chaotic bad luck stuff (man decided to take my keys to work, his truck is in the garage, and me afraid to take the bus because the folks I nanny for down the street needed me to be on call for an emergency they were going through). So I was late to class my second day, and feeling pretty bad about it. But feeling bad was unnecessary.
Brother Ryan, my co-teacher, is a humble kinda guy. He has a whole lot more experience than he lets on, and when I walked late into the class he not only had it under control, but the students were engaged, sitting up straight, and working some pretty elaborate literary equations out on the board/in their notes. They were fine. They were more than fine.
I guess this is what happens. I’ve been with most these guys now three semesters, and there have been some major breakthroughs. In other words, I’m possessive of them, their success has become my world ( I have a feeling this isn’t so rare. I guess their rate of success is something I am not used to versus teaching in the public schools). What I’m getting at is that I’m feeling like a mom. I want to know who their teacher is, what they learned on the first day, were their classmates nice, the works.
I didn’t need to ask. My late self saw it with my own eyes. A whole lot of productive learning going on.
And what I’m getting at now, is that I feel lucky to have Ryan as my co teacher. My babies/men/students are in good hands. Competent, creative and humble hands. Experienced, knows what he’s doing hands.
As we walked away from each other in the parking lot after class I was overcome with thanks. I am thankful to have Brother Ryan, a feeling I realized, that resembles hitting it big in the good luck.
-Sis. Sio, Teacher