Today was a good day. I conferenced all day with individual students needing help with their writing, including a kid who has already become my favorite student. Ironically, this is the same kid who gave me a shit time as a substitute in his English class. 45 seconds after meeting him I had written him off as my least favorite student in the school.
After school, I tutored, and then... my first XC practice!! I've been psyched about this since I was hired in Boston 9 months ago. A lot of my fondest memories of high school are from my days as an XC-er, and I was excited to be on the other side of the team. Jeff, the head coach, is a really chill guy from California, and the team is laid back. The kids are grades 7-12, and it's a co-ed team. The kids are great, and it's amazing how excited they get about going out for a run, which, honestly, is not all that fun in and of itself. I love running, but let's be honest: running is hard. Israel is suffocatingly hot this time of year. But everyone seemed to have fun and I'm excited about the team.
One sad moment: I ran ahead with the speedy boys while Jeff stayed back to round up all the kids. It ended up being me and two boys from Nigeria and Tanzania, grades 7 and 9, chugging down the road. We were running safely off to the side of the road, far over on the right shoulder, well out of anyone' s path. A car filled with guys in their 20s/30s approached on the left side of the road, slowed as it passed, and the driver took a moment to lean on his horn and flick us off when we looked up.
I was so angry. I was with two adorable, obviously harmless young boys, out on a peaceful run, infringing upon others in no conceivable way. The only problem I could identify was that they were African. Or maybe the problem was that I was Asian. Either way, it was disappointing.
Afterwards, went out to dinner at a great pan-Asian restaurant. They even have japchae!
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