From Here to Affinity

Before class I am sitting in a coffee shop. The course, pseudo-literature of the ilk only an educational subsidiary of a for-profit corporation could formulate, contains just 2 students. This is a mistake, and the only reason the course was not canceled is because the original enrollment was half a dozen. I saw 2 of those 6 on the first night, but from our second meeting on only a dynamic duo remains.

I usually make some time before class to go over my notes once more. The notes, however, were developed with the idea that I'd have more students and could actually teach for the requisite 4 hours. The school is serious about not leaving before 10 p.m., and if we sign out early, we are reported to whoever is our boss these days. Just what I need--more marks against me on my permanent record. I figure I'll have to do enough explaining about serious stuff if God and I ever meet, and if He's got an administrator that handles the small things, I may not even get a chance to enter the Corner Office to plead my case.

Both of my students are women, and they are troupers--hardly complaining, acting as though they don't mind being in the room with me when they would rather be home with their respective children. One woman, though, sent me a note before our third meeting saying she was not "feeling good" and did not see herself staying much longer than an hour. I resisted the urge to respond and correct "good" to "well." Odd thing about this woman: I discovered in our second meeting that her boyfriend is someone I've known for quite awhile. We coached our sons' Little League and soccer teams. We have a photograph of the boys when they were in elementary school, and they are holding a sign that reads "Best friends forever."

"I thought he was still married," I said to her, to which she responded, "He hasn't been married for years." This is strange because because his son and mine remain fairly close, and my son is also sociable with my friend's wife's former brother-in-law.

Over the years we have heard rumors and gossip, but we have heard nothing about a divorce. Coyly, I even asked my son about this, and he said he assumes that my friend and his wife are still together. Salient in all this, I think, are the words "not married," which do not necessarily equal "divorced." There is a distinction here, though perhaps not legally. And if God really cares about such civil things, he might not see the distinction, either. Frankly, I don't care much for gossip, and I believe that most aspects of people's lives are none of my business. When I was a kid, I'd heard a rumor that a young fellow down the street from us was a peeping tom. I mentioned to my mother that I had heard this, and she just nodded and continued on as though it was no big deal. Maybe the way she handled that affected me; who knows? Maybe she was, in her own way, trying to protect me from small-town secrets.

The woman never said anything about her boyfriend in our third class, and I did not ask. I assumed that she had told him about my being her teacher, and I wondered what he thought about that. Had he been found out, exposed? Or, did he even care? Whatever he thinks, I hope he is happy, that if it is right for everyone involved, the obvious affinity my student has for my friend is good and genuine. For many of the years I have known him his marriage has been somewhat troubled, though I have no idea how much he contributed to that trouble. I figure my students and I will all show up for our next meeting, and then we'll go our separate ways.

Looking over my notes again, I see there is nothing to be added; there are things only to be removed. I make a few changes, cross out some activities, and turn my attention to Phillip Levine's What Work Is. Somewhere in this book of poems, I know, is a stanza that contains just what I need right now.

Working Man

What I thought about on October 23, 2009

Sometimes a problem with being the main bread-earner is that the bread grows stale. On the cusp of changing jobs, I look at the previous 9.5 years with my current employer and wonder at which point the bread there became less fresh.


What I think today

Whew, doggies!

Starting my third week in a new bakery, I'm wondering if I bit off more than I can chew. If my career is toast.... Okay, enough of that! These weeks have passed quickly, and I'm still trying to work my way through a morass of people, policy, and procedures. And while I have always enjoyed learning something new, I'd forgotten the feeling of being jolted out of a comfortable bed and coming to rest on pins and needles. Every day now is a challenge as I build relationships with new people and acquire different skills. Some fun, really!