I started subbing on Wednesday! So far so good, although the Speech class is a bit challenging, just in terms of the number of students, the fact that it is right after lunch, and right before dismissal. Plus the fact that they haven't really done anything so far this semester, and now I am here to make them actually treat the class like it is a real thing. The two sections of Honors English III are so different from one another, but both good. As always, I am ever-thankful.
I did not teach yesterday, because I had already been scheduled to work at my other job, at Dick's Sporting Goods, before I got the invitation to the substitute teaching orientation. I was able to change my schedule beginning on the 1st of March, but I didn't want to call out of work for the whole day, so I just told the school that I was unavailable, and they said that it would be okay.
So, back to yesterday, I worked at DSG, in the apparel department, for seven hours. A seven hour shift is not that bad, but I realized that I like working Front End a lot more than I liked Apparel. Even though I was able to take on little projects like organizing a display of Underarmour T-shirts, or creating the headband display, I spent a good amount of time wandering around the store trying to figure out where the returned items or dressing room left-behinds belonged. After seven hours of this, preceded by two days of waking up at 5:25am and working/rehearsing straight through until 9:30pm, I was exhausted! But, after I got off work at 5pm, I only had a bit of time before rehearsal began at 7pm. I took myself to Panera for dinner and treated myself to a Chai Tea, thinking it might wake me up - it didn't - and then made my way toward RLT for rehearsal.
When I was almost to the theatre, I saw something that really turned my heart upside-down. I imagine this happens to everyone, but of course I am only me, so it is hard to tell, but this is the second time recently that something has really just sunk deep in my heart like that. On the side street, perpendicular to the street on which I was driving, I saw a group of people seemingly walking home, followed by one person in a power wheelchair, carrying a bag of groceries. I imagined that this person had driven from their home to Harris Teeter (which was very near by), done their grocery shopping, and was on their way home with their packages. Or, perhaps, that this person was trying to catch up to the friends in front, who had all gone to the store together.
In this moment, I felt joy - and sorrow - I wanted to laugh just as much as I wanted to cry. First, I think part of this comes from the fact that I miss being able to walk everywhere in my little mountain town. And I love when people do walk places, or in this case, ride. I was also so proud of this person who I can only assume has limited mobility, and yet seems to have taken full advantage of life and the world around him, and has not let limitations be limitations. I just imagine how strong this person must be - there are so many people who seem to have "everything" and yet spend their days at home. I don't mean to say that this person was at any kind of a disadvantage, but only to say that there was something about the spirit of this man that really moved deeply in me. Even from across the street. And I thought, this is the kind of person I want to befriend.
This happened a few weeks ago, too, as I mentioned earlier. I was working as a cashier, and had a customer come to my register who was purchasing a new pair of shoes, socks, and insoles. This was an older man, but not too old - maybe in his fifties? He put the shoe box on the counter, along with just the packaging for the socks and insoles. I opened the box to make sure the shoes were the same size and matched the box, and inside I saw an old, faded, and worn pair of tennis shoes. He smiled in a proud and subtle way, and said that he was already wearing the shoes. I said "and I'm guessing that's where the missing socks and insoles are, too?" and he smiled back. After I finished the transaction, the man left, with his old shoes in hand, seeming just as happy as could be in his new shoes, as though an aura of peace was just glowing around him, and walking with just a bit more lightness in his step, almost a small bounce, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. For whatever reason, I have not been able to stop thinking about this since, nor have I been able to let go of the image in my mind, of his smile and of the feeling that I got when he told me that the shoes were on his feet. I want to know more. And more, and more. I am hungry.
There are certain moments, certain people, certain events, that seem to put a small fold in the pages of my life. Things that cannot be erased, cannot be undone. Does this happen to you?
