Two

The first thing I remember about Ruth is a shared eye-roll. Two weeks into the class, I was still in that same seat that I had chosen the first night, and she was sitting behind me. One of the younger people, or maybe it was one of the middle-aged women who always seemed to monopolize the class conversation, had said something silly, and I sighed and looked over my shoulder. She had the exact same expression that I imagined was on my face at the time, and we made eye contact and smiled. That was it, too; we were fast friends ever after.

That evening, instead of sitting hunched reading over my notes at break, I actually had a conversation. It turned out that Ruth and I were the same age with what seemed to be similar brands of... Sarcasm? Dry humor? Cynicism? It was hard to tell, but, whatever it was, we found each other very amusing. And even though I had liked the class before, now I really looked forward to going.

Neither of us had any teaching experience, and so to us, everything that Dr. Y said was theoretical and hypothetical. In addition, I had come to the class with a B.A. in philosophy and an M.A. in English Literature, and while I appreciated the educational theory that we discussed, Dewey, Montessori, Piaget, and so forth, all that stuff about classroom management, and dealing with colleagues, parents, and administration, seemed, well, not very intellectual to me, and therefore, not very important.

Are you laughing, yet?