Many years ago, when I taught middle school (thus ensuring my place in heaven), a teacher named Charlotte joined a few of my classes to assist with some of the special ed kids. Over time I began to suspect that she was there for an additional, more cosmic reason. Puffed up with her own self-importance, she was often unprepared, did none of the preparation or grading, was unkind to the kids, and occasionally lied. At lunch time, when the rest of my teacher team met in the faculty room, we began acting like middle schoolers ourselves, quickly nabbing all the chairs at one table so there wouldn’t be room for her to sit with us, since she had an unfortunate tendency to comb out her (often dirty) hair while we ate.
We might have descended sometimes to the social skills of 13-year-olds, but we were also receiving a real-life example of what a teacher should not be. A cautionary tale.
Yesterday at my old-lady aerobics class, standing around waiting for things to begin, I struck up a conversation with the woman in back of me. Before I knew it, I had learned all about her daughter coming to visit from California (West Hollywood) and all the various deaths and illnesses that had befallen the family. She managed to pack a lot in to the scant 2 or 3 minutes we were waiting.
As she droned on and on, I had time to think:
Had I ever done a similar information dump on a stranger?
Was I serving my own purpose in giving her a place to unload?
And was she serving a purpose for me, teaching me the value of just being a needed ear for lack of anyone else in her life?
Interesting thoughts. There's also the question of respect. Forcing a stranger to listen when there's no possibility of participating? Hm. I think you woke up Ernie, one of my pet peeves! People whose idea of conversation is a series of statements. See how the Great Me pushed in here?
ReplyDeleteFunny - when it's someone I know, I find those "conversations" irritating. When it's a stranger (and therefore someone I won't have to listen to again) I just write it off to their loneliness.
DeleteYou're a kind soul. We never know how alone or lonely another soul might be. I appreciate you.
ReplyDeleteLoneliness is a killer. Thank you. Your listening ear may have done a lot more than you realise.
ReplyDeleteOr. . . she's just a blabbermouth and I'm not a great humanitarian! :)
DeleteIt doesn't happen often that someone will just start talking to me. Once in a great while, so I would put up with it. And try to avoid the person if I saw them again. :-)
ReplyDeleteI get a lot of it. I look approachable or something. Hence my reaction earlier, as in nooooooo
DeleteNice of you to allow her woes to bounce off of you without judgement or scorn. I probably have been that woman, not trusting counselors but a perfect stranger is a willing sponge to soak up the blah- blah of another , is free and not going to hold you accountable because you will never see them again. Perfect. I have left my blah-blah on a good many strangers I think, especially on bus trips across town.
ReplyDeleteIt's OK to be kind and listen. You aren't walking in her shoes. You can surely escape a repeat when class is over.
ReplyDeleteI have a neighbour just like that, I can say Hello and she will reply with ten thousand words plus her entire life story. I figured she was lonely and needs someone to listen, so I listened, but after several times hearing the exact same thing I try to avoid her.
ReplyDeleteBein an ear in these stressful times can be so healthy for that person. You were kind to listen.
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