Teachers are everywhere

For over ten years, almost every morning I jogged a two and a half mile loop. Over five years ago when I stopped jogging and started walking, my shallow silent mantras were, "gotta go gotta go, gotta get everything done NOW" and "Hyper, happy, do it my way, Miami Momma coming through." I passed a lot of people and I always said a loud, cheerful "Good Morning!" Most said, an exuberant "Good Morning!" back. However, when the other person did not reciprocate, I would get frustrated. Sometimes, I would turn after passing them and angrily say, " I said, Good Morning!" At the very least, I would stew about it throughout my walk and then tell co-workers at my office all about the rude people I encountered that morning. Day after day, it happened as if the same day was repeating over and over.

One particular woman and her elementary school age son comes to mind. She was Indian and I thought it was her custom not to say, "Good morning" and she was rude and offensive! I also thought that she thought I was a low life American born showing too much skin in my shorts and tank top. Then, when I found out her eldest son was the Valedictorian of the Senior class, maybe she thought I was beneath her. Maybe she thought I was stupid. Every morning we passed and I would say, "Good morning!" I tried all different tones, pitches, rates of speech, and inflection. Then, my "Good morning's started to have an air of frustration and hostility. Never did I get a response. Perhaps she's afraid of me. Perhaps she's deaf. Perhaps she is mute. Perhaps she is RUDE I thought. Years passed and every morning, there she was with her younger son, walking. Never did she respond and never did he respond. I finally gave up, or gave in and stopped saying anything to her. I ignored her. I would see her coming from a distance and I would imagine that she did not exist. She was not there. When we passed each other I had no anger, no self doubt, no questions, no concerns, no cares and no feeling.

It's been at least four years since I have been using the "eraser" technique of taking her out of the picture; then, last week something interesting happened. I saw her coming and instead of ignoring her, I respected her. I looked at her with the energy of a student. I truly felt that I was about to pass one of my greatest teachers. Behind the lens of her glasses I could see her eyes; respectfully my eyes met hers. I gave her a humble smile. She nodded her head and an approving smile flashed my direction. As I nodded back, I thought to myself, "What a patient teacher she has been."