Two posts in two days!  I realized in my desire to write my way out of a funk, I missed out on sharing a couple remarkable stories from last week that involved actually talking to strangers instead of moving away from them at coffee shops.  To start, the AP workshop I took was full of strangers, and I did my best to talk to as many of them as possible.  A good number of them were from out of town, and when they realized I was a “local,” I started feeling a little like a resident tour guide.  I helped one woman from Kentucky with information on how to get same-day Hamilton tickets (she sat Orchestra center) shared details of Lego Land with a young mother from East St. Louis (her kids loved it), and had perhaps the most striking conversation with a teacher named Nicole who teaches just outside Milwaukee.  That particular conversation happened during my lunch break on Wednesday. 

As I wandered around looking for a place I’d like to eat (preferably a slightly healthier option than the Stan’s donut I had consumed the day before) I saw Nicole, walking in front of me.  I caught up with her to ask her where she was eating, and she said she was going to try the Indian place located on the second floor of a building across the street.  I hadn’t even looked up to notice it.  I asked if I could join her, and she said absolutely.  After being seated by an industrious host, we enjoyed a well-priced and decidedly delicious Indian buffet and had some great conversations about best teaching practices, our different school populations, and the general challenges of teaching AP.  The startling moment came as we made our way downstairs to head back to class.  As she walked in front of me, I noticed she took the stairs one at a time, and wondered at it, because I hadn’t previously seen her limp.   Of course, I didn’t ask, but answered my unspoken question when she volunteered, “I’m sorry. Stairs are still hard for me.  Several years ago, I survived stage four cancer, and the tumors and treatment caused significant nerve damage.  Until two years ago, I walked with a cane.  I used to fall down in front of my classes, but my kids were great about it.”

Momentarily rendered speechless, I managed to pull myself together to remark on how incredible it was that she had survived, that she was walking, and that she had continued teaching throughout her whole ordeal.   Nicole is no more than five years older than me, if that, and I was floored by her grit and positive attitude.  As I often do, I wondered how I might react if I were in a similar situation, and I was once again reminded of the truth that every person has a story – even many stories – and it only takes moment, a kind word, or an offer to share lunch to unlock them.

The moral of the story is that nothing will pull you out of a funk faster than remembering that last week you met a woman who survived stage four cancer, teaching high school throughout the entirety of her battle with the disease.  I’m pretty sure I can handle the trials and tribulations my dating life.  It’s all about perspective.

Until next time…