Losing my Anonymity

Yesterday was a good day.  I got a bunch of schoolwork done and then I went to the grocery store in the afternoon.  I bumped into a fellow grad student there and chatted for a few minutes.  This is happening to me more and more now, running into people I know in Columbus.  On the way home from the grocery store I calculated that I have taught about 200 students here so far and have been in classes with another 150 (maybe?).  Then there are professors, secretaries, ODE coworkers and people that I’ve met at conferences.  When we first got to Columbus, I could go practically anywhere knowing full well that I would not run into anyone I knew, and I liked it.  I like to be anonymous.  I like to go about my business and not feel like I have to remember a name or think of some clever bit of small talk to discuss.  But, I’m not going to lie, it’s also nice to feel like I’m part of a community and that when I look up now and again I spot a friendly face.

It reminds me of moving to Cincinnati just after undergrad.  At first, I could go to the grocery store, pick up some tampons and a family size bag of Doritos and not worry for one minute that there might be an awkward moment with an acquaintance.  But, slowly that changed.  Each year, I met 125 new students, their parents, their siblings, etc.  So, by year five, there were 625 students and their families lurking at the end of every ice cream aisle in West Chester.  One day, Dan and I went to Lowe’s to look at getting some shelves for our rec room.  We were in the back of the store and I hear a voice from the front shouting, “MISS RICHARDS!!!!!!  MISS RICHARDS!!!!!!!”  Then came the thumping of little high tops and the big smile of a former student, let’s call him John.  Out of breath with wide eyes, he says, “Hi Miss Richards!  How are you?”  I love this kid.  He has the most joyful spirit and his family is super nice.  I also had his older brother, who was very bright, and we would play chess sometimes during indoor recess.  I look up to see John’s parents and brother walking at a normal pace, also wearing big smiles.  His dad says, “Wow, it’s kind of like you’re a celebrity, isn’t it?”  Yes, it is.  I’ve thought about that often since then.  Being a teacher is sort of like being a D-list celebrity, but without the offers to do Lean Cuisine commercials or the hope of a reality TV show.  The lack of anonymity you have as a teacher is surprising sometimes, and it can be annoying, but it’s also kind of nice.  So, moving to Columbus was like wiping that slate clean and it took awhile to get used to.  But now, as I run into more and more friends and fellow students, I’m only a little disappointed that none of them will ever scream my name and dash down an aisle to greet me.