My continuing exploration of the sub life brought me to my old classroom this morning. Just a little over a year since I packed all my things and turned the lights off on what had been my professional home for over 30 years, the room has gone from being a longtime English classroom to U.S. History and now, math.
For all that, I didn't feel strange or even the least bit emotional at all walking back into room 275 as the teacher in charge. And despite having the same old vintage trapezoidal tables that had been mine for so many decades, the original chalkboards, and even a couple of decorative stuffed dolphins that were gifts to me, it almost felt like a different room.
Then at 9:38, the principal came on over the loudspeaker and asked for our attention. "Oh, it's September 11," I recalled out loud, and as we listened to her words of remembrance and then observed a minute of silence, I thought how right it seemed to be back in that room, just a mile from the Pentagon, and the place where I was 24 years ago.
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