I am required to visit homes
of the children I teach. Friday, I went
to one boy’s home to meet with his parents.
It was a good visit. Another
student in the class lives across the street.
She had been absent due to illness so I thought since I was in the
neighborhood I would drop off her papers and newsletter to her mother. I also
had a short survey I needed to take for the office. I knocked on the door and I heard a muffled,
“Come in!” I slowly opened the door
saying loudly, “Hello! It’s Shelly, your daughter’s (I named her)
teacher.” The father greeted me and I
introduced myself, shaking his hand, since I had not met him yet. I told him I was glad to hear his daughter
was feeling better and handed him a pile of papers. I went on to ask him if I could ask him 4
questions for a short survey. He
complied. I completed my four and a half
minute visit and turned to go. He spoke
up and said I may have the wrong child.
What?!!! He told me that the girl
I was looking for lived next door. Oh
NO!!! I got the wrong house?! I
apologized profusely and tried to back away slowly groping for the door handle,
hoping this gentlemen would not call the troopers. He handed me the child’s
papers. The Chief’s voice spoke to me
clearly through my invisible earphone and told me to properly introduce
myself. I turned around held my head up
high and hand out to him again and announced, “Hello, let me formally introduce
myself. I am Shelly, the new white
teacher who doesn’t know where the children in her class live! This is my way of meeting the neighbors in my
new village! I am honored to meet you, sir!”
If he told me his name, I would not have remembered it! He began to chuckle and I graciously backed
out of the house, thanking him for his hospitality. Fortunately, no troopers showed up on my
doorstep. I am sure I was the talk of
the village all weekend! After I told a
couple native ladies my story, they figured out whose house I went to and they
agreed. The white woman would be the
talk of the village all weekend!
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