Introduction To (Teacher’s Fears)
I complained to Adele that I am nervous before class. The thought of walking into the cage of tigers would not have been so daunting as the thought of walking in class full of twenty-year-old Texans.
And Adele–she is from Mexico, so she shares a kind of foreigner-in-the-US sensibilities with me–took a pause and then said: “Let me show you something.”
She opened a drawer of her desk with a key, and produced to the light a tiny bottles with drops. “Every time I have to do teaching, I drink this. Six drops every time.”
It was a grass-on-spirit hellish concoction to help one calm down.
She was standing in front of me, pressing this bottle to her chest, saying: “We are too hard on ourselves.” Her nails were of wonderful mauve.
At that moment Adele looked like a girl, and one could not really tell that she did some fantastic things, like convincing UNESCO to grant to certain people a status of extinguishing ethnic group or something.