Ran Out of Gas....

I had an observer in my final class today.  The girl is a 2nd year junior high school student.  As luck would have it she's in the same school year as the girl who presently is enrolled in the class.  Goes to a different school though.  The class went relatively well but as it progressed she seemed to run out of energy to keep up with my intermittent Q&A barrages.  I chalked that up to the fact that most junior high and high school students show up for classes after a long day at school.  I've seen students almost fall asleep whilst in the middle of writing a sentence.  Anyways, by the time the class had finished her mother had done all the paperwork to have her enrolled.  Which is a good thing as far as business goes.

The standard practice in our school is that the office manager leaves an information slip on a teacher's desk when we have new or prospective students coming in.  I had glanced at the name for this new student, thought it was a unique name, and left it at that.  Ami, our office manager, had said something about the girl having taken English lessons in the past but that didn't leave an impression on me.

After tonight's class Ami asked how the observer had fared.  I said "She seemed to have run out of gas".  Ami didn't understand what that meant but I didn't have time to explain because we had students clearing out after class.  Taking the time to say goodnight and thanks for coming is de rigueur.   Afterwards I explained that the girl seemed to have run out of energy to speak and her facial demeanor had become a bit stiff and expressionless.

I was seated at my desk when I relayed that information to Ami.  I looked over to my co-worker James and then it struck me like a lightning bolt: that girl was his former student.  I had also taught her a few times a couple of years ago.  She had been a rather silent student back then.  Apparently not too much different now.  James got excited, pulled open a desk drawer, and produced a photo taken three years ago.  Yes, she was in that photo.

So my challenge going forward is to start off with a clean slate.  The desire to tell the girl that yes, I do remember her from three years ago is strong but I figure it's best not to haul all that stuff back out.  Being thirteen is tricky enough without having to deal with embarrassment caused by adults whose memories are too long.