no need for narcissists

to prepare myself to write my "final paper" I will get my creative juices flowing here first...as it is my style to write narratives, I will illustrate an experience through that genre. Here goes...

I have been trying to reach this teacher to do my volunteer hours for class. He hasn't responded to my phone messages or e-mails so I start to become worried. I am running out of time, and I need to get my 25 hours in or my grade will suffer. I decide it might be harder for him to ignore me in person, so I drive over to the school, ask the secretary what class he's in, sign in, put my Visitor sticker on my sweater and walk down to his room.
As I come around the corner I see kids filing in, and some are leaving.
I see number 44, and I know I've found the right place.
As I walk into the room, I feel butterflies in my stomach and I worry that I am coming in at a bad time. I look around me and there are pictures and art projects taking up every square inch of the walls and counter space. It's loud and noisy and there is activity all around. The classroom is filled with mostly hispanic 5th graders and they have just entered, the day is beginning. They look at me curiously, and go about their business.
I walk up to the teacher and he seems to be looking at me sort of sideways, like who is this strange woman coming into my space uninvited. Or at least that's what I imigined he was thinking. He is tall, about 50 something, with glasses and a gruffy beard. Heavy set, arms folded.
"I'm sorry to bother you, my name is Star, I've left you a couple of messages?" He looks at me, not responding. Gulp, I'm not off to a great start...
"Remember, with the Power Play program- Health and nutrition- I'm a volunteer??"
"Oh, yes." He responds (finally). "I did the program last year."
"Great!" I claim. "It would be easy to get you going again this year, and I'm here to help in any way I can with the students." Is it possible for me to come every week to assist?" The kids are starting to get louder. I can tell he just wants to get rid of me.
"Send me an e-mail about it." He states.
"How about if I come in on Tuesday and we can try a lesson?" I counter.
"That would be fine. 9:35, they take recess at 11am." I knew that was my cue to hit the road. I got what I came for. A yes. Now, I could do my hours for my Philosophy class and not have to figure out another volunteer location. Who has time for that?
I glanced at the children, their faces inquisitive, eager, and humble. They scurried to their desks and got out their papers and books.
"Thank you." I say as I'm walking out. "I really appreciate it."
I would come to find out that this man is one of the kindest most generous teachers I have ever met. I only knew him for a short time, but he became a type of mentor to me- introducing me to other teachers, advocating the program to the principal. He tells me that I am welcome there anytime, and that when I do my student teaching to think of his school. He was not bothered by me in the least bit, in fact I helped him out a little. I could have taken his unresponsiveness as a no, but I persisted. Lesson number 1. Lesson number 2 = Appearances are deceiving. You should never assume as one knows what that does to a person (and me)...
They each started out as strangers to me, assignments if you will.
In the end, they were my students. My Tuesday and Thursday routine, that I came to enjoy and sincerely look forward to. Each and every one of these kids made an impression on me, their personality, what their parents served for dinner (which told a great deal more than just ingredients), and their innocent disposition. I tried my best to listen when they spoke, making eye contact, and giving them the respect and attention they deserved. My feelings were somewhat different in the beginning, as I wondered about their parents immigration status and viewed them as a race.
They were much more than that.
I will never forget the lessons they taught me of becoming less narcissistic and more present with people. "Undocumented" was quickly replaced by "Illegal" in my mind. Showing up as a requirement was what I started with, helping 26, 5th graders make better choices for health and nutrition- because I truly cared about their futures- was what I ended up with. Our hearts were all aligned and we each gave a small piece of ourselves in this "bigger picture."
That's how life is sometimes. Giving us pieces of enchantment, in some of the most ordinary tasks of our day...