Today, for Spirit Week, was Throwback Thursday. Students were invited to dress as any past persona of themselves or from some earlier decade. 7:30 a.m. found three sixth graders at my classroom door.
"Can you guess what I am?" one of them asked.
I looked at her Rapunzel t-shirt and denim skirt, and scratched my head. "Um, the 90s?" I guessed.
"No!" I'm my kindergarten self! I loved Rapunzel then!"
"Oh," I said. "Well, then, that's a great outfit!"
"How about me?" one of her friends asked. She was wearing a hair band tied in a bow, leggings, and a long cardigan.
"Easy!" I answered. "You're the 80s."
Her face fell. Her friend tried to help me out. "Look at her hair... she's the 60s," she shrugged, "or 50s."
Not so much, I thought to myself, but who am I to judge?
"What about me?" the third girl inquired, sweeping her arm dramatically down her buttoned wool jacket, pleated skirt, black stockings, and sensible shoes, then giving me a sharp little salute from the brim of her fedora.
"The... 30s or 40s?" I said.
"Perhaps this will help," she said briskly and pulled out a black umbrella and opened it over her head.
"Mmmm," I stalled.
"I'm Mary Poppins!" she cried officiously, and now that she said so, I could totally see it.
"So you're the..."
"60s!" she told me.
"But," I said, "Mary Poppins–"
"Came out in the 60s," she finished. "I should know. It's one of my favorite movies."
"But the story takes place in the early 1900s, I think," I said.
She waved her hand. It was clear to everyone that I was not good at this. Fortunately, the bell rang right then.
"You all look great!" I said, shooing them out the door. "Have a fun day!"
"Can you guess what I am?" one of them asked.
I looked at her Rapunzel t-shirt and denim skirt, and scratched my head. "Um, the 90s?" I guessed.
"No!" I'm my kindergarten self! I loved Rapunzel then!"
"Oh," I said. "Well, then, that's a great outfit!"
"How about me?" one of her friends asked. She was wearing a hair band tied in a bow, leggings, and a long cardigan.
"Easy!" I answered. "You're the 80s."
Her face fell. Her friend tried to help me out. "Look at her hair... she's the 60s," she shrugged, "or 50s."
Not so much, I thought to myself, but who am I to judge?
"What about me?" the third girl inquired, sweeping her arm dramatically down her buttoned wool jacket, pleated skirt, black stockings, and sensible shoes, then giving me a sharp little salute from the brim of her fedora.
"The... 30s or 40s?" I said.
"Perhaps this will help," she said briskly and pulled out a black umbrella and opened it over her head.
"Mmmm," I stalled.
"I'm Mary Poppins!" she cried officiously, and now that she said so, I could totally see it.
"So you're the..."
"60s!" she told me.
"But," I said, "Mary Poppins–"
"Came out in the 60s," she finished. "I should know. It's one of my favorite movies."
"But the story takes place in the early 1900s, I think," I said.
She waved her hand. It was clear to everyone that I was not good at this. Fortunately, the bell rang right then.
"You all look great!" I said, shooing them out the door. "Have a fun day!"
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