It's bootcamp again. And that means seeing students I haven't seen in two years. Some, longer than that and some less.
Whatever the time in between, suddenly they've all grown two heads taller than me, their voices have broken, they're not 13 and prancing around me. They're yelling at their juniors. They're running warmups.
When?
When did that happen?
I'm sure my colleagues who have been around longer are used to this feeling. But I don't know if I'll ever get over how new and unfamiliar this feels.
I helped Arabelle and Heeraj out with their O level lit a month or so back. I mean, O levels?! When I first met Arabelle she was thirteen and part of a group that did a self-written play about not giving up and achieving your dreams or something of the like.
And the next minute, she's one of the easiest students to work with in drama club, she's a good listener, and she's part of my SYF cast.
Then before I know it, I'm meeting her up at Starbucks and we're dissecting poetry and talking about Andrea Gibson and...
When did they grow up?
When did any of them, I mean.
And then it's gotten me thinking. About how it's been a while. How I didn't expect to fall this hard and this much in love with my job.
How four years ago, I didn't see myself here- right where I am now. And I like where I am, I must say.
Then that starts me thinking...
About where I'll be in three, four years. What I'll be writing about, thinking about, dreaming about. What will I be reaching for, and if I'm reaching for the same thing, will I be halfway there already?
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