Right now I am typing to you from a coffee shop in my small college town. I could totally post a picture of my laptop with little iced coffee sitting beside it and planner if I had a camera on me. On the radio is some Jack White band, maybe a Raconteurs album that I don’t have or maybe Dead Weather because I never bought their album. Maybe even White Stripes. Well in my cliche attempt to flirt with the barista I asked and it is indeed not a Jack White band but rather some indie project I don’t remember the name of twenty seconds after asking from Austin. It’s pretty cliche, along with the straight-across bangs I got this weekend. Also cliche is that I have this blog and my decision to go to a coffee shop to get out of my apartment, be less of a hermit, and hopefully at some point meet a new guy who’s cooler than my ex-boyfriend. Also cliche is that I’m bashing my ex on my blog.
As you may or may not know, I am on the journey to becoming a middle or high school English teacher. At this point, I’m leaning more toward high school, but we’ll have to see how I feel once I spend some time observing/student teaching in a middle school. Well, yesterday was my first day as a student “teacher” (although for the first month I’m not doing anything more than sitting in the back of my teacher’s classroom and observing… well today I did edit some papers with a red teacher pen, and that was pretty fulfilling). It’s really bizarre to introduce myself and answer as Ms. Hurd instead of Katie. It was also surreal to use a red teacher pen on actual student papers, and I imagine the experience will undoubtedly feel more and more like I’m playing pretend before it will feel like I really am a teacher. If I were using my red teacher pen right now, I’d mark that so far this paragraph is not connected to my topic, but I promise it is. I’m at a school in middle Georgia, and as you can expect many of my students are pretty country. Today one boy told us all about how he loves to hog hunt more than anything. He told us about how when the guy who taught him to hog hunt did, the first thing he did was put him in a pen with hogs because apparently if you don’t jump on them, they’ll jump on you and attack you because they’re extremely aggressive and have tusks. Apparently to catch a hog you have to jump on it and wrestle it to the ground without it hurting you. I was pretty amazed at the bravery of this fifteen year old boy. Just looking at him, a quiet kid in a private school uniform, I never would have thought that he would have the power to wrestle a wild hog to the ground and capture it. People can be so surprising.
I guess you may be thinking that I shouldn’t be surprised that a middle Georgia boy with a thick Southern accent would hog hunt. You also aren’t surprised that I’m writing this from a coffee shop right now or got bangs. But I would like to challenge you to let yourself be surprised by everyone, because cliches and all, there’s something more to each and every one of us than there appears to be.