Teachers Day

I came to school late on Teachers Day. I have been making a bad habit of that lately. Coming to school late, that is - Teacher's Day isn't so frequent. Late is perspective, though. I'm still on time but on late days I can't thumb through the Korea Herald's doomsday North Korea articles. I like those articles. I got a carnation pinned to my shirt by Kim Min-Ji. She was the fastest in the mad dash towards me as I rounded the corner at the gateway of our school. Her hand was shaking. I say "pinned" in the sense that there was a pin on the flower and that was its intended use. Instead the carnation was shoved into my shirt pocket leaving behind bits of foliage that will likely remain in there for a few weeks, eluding the washer's spin cycle. Much like the sand in my jean pockets right now.

I got some rice cakes, too. I hate rice cakes. I gave them to the students that clean my room every afternoon at 4:10 precisely. "Very delicious," they claimed. Everything is delicious to them, I've learned.

Students throw a huge (again, perspective) party for their homeroom teachers showering them with love and small gifts. I don't have a homeroom. I sit in my office quietly reading e-books on my Kindle. A student enters.

"Party here," she says.

My first reaction of "You shouldn't have!" is quickly shattered upon hearing,

"Our homeroom teacher party here."

"Oh, that's OK," I reply.

I continued reading in my office while the party I wasn't invited to raged next door. In my classroom.

"Happy birthday," said another student.