Remember Me?

The Tuesday of finals week (the week before winter break), I caught an art class. I had covered Ms. G's class back in September (one of the first I covered after finishing the long-term freshman English class), so I had a pretty fair idea of what I was in for.

Third period. Their final consisted of them completing a slide show on Google Slides on the seven elements of art. 

The class was largely freshmen. While most of them got right to work on what they needed to do, I had some of the usual issues.

I approached the back far table to remind the three boys they should be working on their final.

"You hated our fifth period, didn't you?"

Jensen had been in that fifth period freshman English class that I started the school year in. But in that moment, that's not where my mind was. Monday I had just finished up the long term special ed social studies class, and I hadn't even been back on this campus since the beginning of November. 

I vaguely recalled the English class. But it would have taken me a minute to cast my mind back to that time. I didn't want to take that minute. I replied.

"I have covered so many classes since then. I don't remember."

Because holding onto the emotions from classes isn't worth the effort. I keep things fresh in my memory for a week until I post the interesting bits here, but then many of the events get lost when I get busy doing something else the next day. It's fun to go searching through my past posts sometimes. I'll read something and barely recall the incident (until I read it, and then sometimes I recall it vividly). 

As I watched the class, I did cast my mind back to September. Jensen was consistently late, sometimes as much as a half hour. And as he played around rather than doing his final, I noted that he hadn't grown up any in the past three months.

Apparently it was a point of pride with Jensen that his class was awful? 

Ah, freshmen. They are such different creatures.