Ageless Apples

A student brought me an apple on my first day at Deerfield High School. It was not just any student. It was a senior varsity football player in my Beginning Acting class. I was twenty-two years old and the youngest teacher in the building. This young man was not only physically bigger than me, he was confident and comfortable. I was new and nervous.

I saved that apple. It sat on my desk and later I put it in a bell jar. I still have it.

Last week, I was at a restaurant with friends and that student stepped out of a booth. He looked at me and I looked at him. It was a wonderful moment. I remembered his name and he began to talk about our class. He remembered far more than I did. I was amazed. I was delighted. It was a marvelous moment and a beautiful gift.

Here we were, twenty-seven years later, talking about our experience together. We are only four years apart in age. His family was with him and much of mine was there. He wants visit his old high school and sit in on my theatre class. I hope he does.

I floated back to my table after our conversation. This is the gift that alumni give me. These brief glimpses into my students' post high school lives are special moments of memory and meaning. They may be the one of the best perks of being a teacher: seeing my students all grown up.

This is one of the reasons I enjoy Facebook. Although I often wish my students wouldn’t graduate, I know that is selfish. My job is help them develop skills so they don’t need me any more. Then they move on. That is how it should be.

But I miss them. I was walking down the hall and I saw a girl far away. For a moment, I thought it was a student from my homeroom. Then I realized she was at college. I had just hoped it was her.

After I left the restaurant, I went to a Shabbat service. One the congregants brought a guest: another former student! She is now a teacher and has children of her own. Twice in one evening, I got to touch the past by seeing the future.

Students stop visiting the high school when they graduate from college. It is rare to have older students visit. However, many of my former students are moving back to Deerfield with their spouses and children. Some are old enough to have kids in high school. It won’t be long until I have a former student’s child in class. That makes me feel old and really good.

I will not see a majority of my former students after they leave high school. I will bump into a handful. I will keep in touch with a few through Facebook or email. A small number have become friends. I have attended many of my former students’ weddings and other special events. I go out for coffee or a meal with several regularly. Most of them call me by my first name now.

The apple in the mason jar looks really ugly. It has not aged well. The kids, on the other hand, are ageless golden apples. They are worth keeping forever. I have faith that those I do not see are productive, happy, and making a difference. Seeing a few of them gives me hope for all of them. And I worry less.