Once, an eleventh grade student came to me during break in between classes. He looked excited. I was gathering my things and getting ready. This is a busy part of the school day, especially for the kind of teachers, like myself, who had 5 classes with 30 students each to teach within the day.
Needless to say, I was distracted.
He came up on me quick, “Patrick!”*
(*There were a few students who used my first name, even though I’d asked them all to.)
“Down the hall, there is a local police officer giving a presentation to one of our classes.”
“That’s nice. Why are you telling me this?” I didn’t look up at him because I was busy, though I did feel confused about why this student was so excited.
“Do you hate him? Don’t you want to tell him?”