After school, andrea and I went to Shopwise to buy some groceries for the week. We were already at the counter when I realized that there was a kid in front of our cart that was staring at me. I recognized him as one of the students at the school where I work. But since, I also knew that he’s not in any of my classes, it took me a while to recall his name – Franco.

The same incident already happened to me several times before, with just minor differences in details. Sometimes, I remember their names. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes, there’s more than one. Sometimes, they don’t even see me anymore. I guess this is the price for living close to your workplace – work doesn’t really stop when the bell sounds.
The same students you meet inside the school, you also meet outside. So even if you try to leave your title within the gates of the campus, your students always carry them back to you when you cross paths. Hi sir, I’d usually here from them.

Although I like what I do – teaching, that is, sometimes when I go out for groceries or malling, I also seek refuge from it. I mean, wouldn’t it be nice to just be your plain old self every once and a while? Not a sir, not a teacher, just me.

Don’t take it the wrong way. I like the acknowledgment, the greeting, the respect and everything, but sometimes I’d also like a break from it. When we go out, that’s what I look forward to. But living so close to where you’re known as a sir, where you’re often greeted and acknowledged, it’s a little bit more difficult.

Oh well, I guess no one can have it all.