The Return

The first day back wasn't so bad. Getting up at 5:30 wasn't great, but Stefin helped me so much- packing my lunch, taking my piles of papers and bags and cooler with pumping-accoutrement out to the car as I blearily dressed and ate oatmeal and put mascara on my eyes... Many kids seemed happy to see me and I gratefully accepted many a hug. (Some from kids I swear wouldn't have missed me.) It was pretty easily to slip back into the swing of things. Fortunately, Sylvie (my sub) was fantastic and kept most of my systems intact- and even added a few helpful ones of her own, so my kids' experience has stayed pretty consistent. A few new kids and some others have disappeared... some new behavioral challenges and the same ol' old ones.
A, new to me, gasped when I raised my arm and she glimpsed the long hairs poking out of my shirt sleeve. Laughter erupted in the five-feet circumference around me. I kept talking. A few moments later, during a pause:
"Ms. Craven, I heard you got a different culture."
And from the back, "Shhhh! That ain't nice."
Me: "What?"
A: "Somebody told me, they said you got a different culture or something. And that's why you don't..." giggles. They can't bring themselves to say it.
Me: "Should I just show you my armpits so you all can get a good look and get over it?"
Some nod, some laugh, a few sit quiet and uncomfortable.
I lift up my arms.
Kids point, laugh, some look away.
Me: "Okay, now can we move on?"
A short discussion follows, about personal choice and culture and the cost of razorblades.
Although they certainly are the most vocal, I'd say only about a third of the kids seemed truly appalled. And even they didn't seem appalled really, just curious and weirded-out. I'm definitely the first woman they've seen with hairy legs and armpits. Kind of a world-view breaker, for sure. Most of them are freaked out enough by the idea that I breastfeed my baby. "Ewww- you mean you don't give yo baby a bottle?" And somebody mimes a baby suck-suck-sucking with chipmunk cheeks.
"You not supposed to, really," someone else says. I'm surprised. "It's the healthiest thing, the mama feeding 'em."
I echo this statement, and corral the conversation back to narrative vs. expository writing.

Later, in sixth period, D says, "How come you show 3rd period your hair but not us?" I give her a quick flash and continue along with the lesson. She laughs LOUD, and tries to pull the boy across the aisle in with her, "Look, J!" but he just kind of nods and rolls his eyes. He already saw my legs at the beginning of the year. He asked questions then. Now he's over it. That makes me feel good. They do get over it. Even C, who all year has been a hot-cold consta-talking-thorn-in-my-side, is acts pretty cool about all of this now.
You can open up their minds. It's exhausting, but it's possible.

Speaking of exhausting: these two days back were do-able, but oh-man did they require a huge nap each afternoon/eve. Aeli had an uncharacteristic squirmy period from 3:30-5 on Friday, so I was particularly pooped that day. I'm definitely feeling a bit apprehensive about a five-day week, with dad back at his post too. We'll see. Hoping I don't fall over on Wednesday, or just burst into breast-milk and tears.

Whew.