The English Teacher
I have taught many subjects to many people in my career.
Whether I was teaching first year engineers to write an essay,
or bored sixth-graders the difference between composite and prime,
I never once doubted my abilities as a teacher.
I was passionate, caring, easy to understand, and always got my point across.
Or so I thought—
I learned otherwise one quiet afternoon in a village in Morocco.
I silently watched as my husband’s sister, to whom I had been teaching English,
repeatedly chanted “good night” to my dog, while waiting expectantly for her to “sit”.
My dog cocked her head to the side, in that way that only dogs can, with a sly grin on her face,
and if she could speak, I’m sure she would make a quip about not being sleepy.
I continued to watch without a word, I was speechless really,
and hoped for the sake of my career that my dog would get tired and sit.
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