When did I grow up?
I still can vividly remember being in second grade with Mrs. Pidde as my teacher, copying cursive letters, getting my name written on the board, playing on the swings at recess, flirting with Evan on the bus. Now everyday, I work in a second grade classroom only I’m not a student. I listen as the students describe their families, their parents’ ages and occupations, and I can’t help but think that I too could have a child in second grade.
Yesterday many of these kids' parents were at the school to watch their children walk in a character parade. But the parents didn’t really seem like parents anymore; they seemed like they could be peers or college friends or team-mates. But they were there to watch their children, and I was there, looking mostly like a college student or a recent graduate. And I started to feel panicky. Like the curtain for a play has suddenly been lifted and everyone around me is an act or two further along in their life productions. But I’m still on Act One and the play doesn’t really seem to be going anywhere, and the characters don’t know their lines. And sometimes I can't really hear what the director is saying or I forget what play we are performing.
And second grade still feels like it was yesterday. And my life play still feels a little bit permanently stuck in Act One. Or maybe some Acts of this performance have not made the cut, and this production is more of a modern one.