Kari Tyree

Recognition swept across both of their faces as Callie stepped out of the elevator at the floor of her office and almost walked into the person standing there. Both simultaneously said, “Hey, how are you?” Then the older woman waiting to get on the elevator asked, “Did you teach this summer?”

“No, I didn’t; it was a nice break,” Callie answered with nods of emphasis.

“I know – I came to see you, but you weren’t there – I figured you weren’t teaching. Hey, what did you think of my ‘Goodman Brown’ paper?” Jane, confident, without fishing for a compliment, asked in her pleasantly loud voice.

“I thought it was good, really insightful, in-depth,” Callie answered truthfully, though caught off-guard by the question, and having had a solid three months of break, having moved to a new city, and having planned for a new semester all since reading that final research paper.

“Oh, thank you! I just knew it was good. Thank you, Ms. Trindle!” Jane poured out the words with genuine delight, though her countenance displayed a sense of self-assurance and a knowledge that she was fine with our without this bit of affirmation. “Your class was my favorite class of all time, so far in my school,” she added.

“Well, good; I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Callie said, still taken a little aback.

“You’re an awesome teacher,” Jane continued, but with an air of ending the brief encounter so both ladies could move on with their schedules.

Callie, laughing, not sure how to respond, but wanting to do so graciously, said, “Thanks – you were an awesome student!” She really meant it, too, although that language, borrowed from Jane’s remark, would not have been her own choice, she being such a deliberate and subdued teacher. Relating to students on a personal level had always both excited and puzzled her: how casual could she be? Could she let her guard down, or didn’t she have to maintain that invisible boundary, for authority’s sake? She was so young, after all, for a college teacher (in her mind, anyway): twenty-six, and just recently married, with no kids to add any of that almost intangible “mom-gravity” to her person, that gravitas that some teachers seemed to have, maybe since they were used to taking no nonsense from their own little ‘students’ at home. Callie did not reflect on all of these thoughts often, but her general picture of herself was definitely tinged with the drab colors of small, pervasive doubts and cautions.

The carpet and walls looked sharper as she walked back to her office after this conversation with her former student. Half-closed blinds and some buildings outside obstructed the view through the window at the end of the hallway, so that as she walked towards it, Callie could only see a small patch of what happened to be a bright blue sky.