One foot still in New Haven, one foot now pointing toward Thailand, the Independent’s schoolteacher/ diarist feels the love from a barista and a New Mexico school, but not from the woman who takes her printer.
May 2, 2006
The protocol for ordering coffee at the downtown Starbucks has changed. Now when you order, you have to give them your name so they can write it on the cup. They already do this at the Woodbridge Starbucks, and ones in Boston, and I thought it was a nice touch — ¬¶makes my morning a little more personal. So this morning when I ordered my coffee and she asked for my name, I was surprised and happy. We even talked to each other. Maybe I shouldn’t sound so surprised about talking to someone in the morning at a coffee place, but I am. My routine everyday has been a silent one, other than when I’m talking to myself or asking for a coffee. I like the idea of someone asking me my name; I think other people did, too, because the people I waited in line with were chatty and friendly, looking me in my eye. It was a really nice change of pace. I felt warm and friendly, too. Like it was going to be a good day. On Thursday and Friday, our school is having visitors come from New Mexico and from N.Y.C. Since our school’s magnet theme is citizenship, using the curriculum Facing History and Ourselves, and since the New Mexico school wants to adopt a similar program as ours, we’ve opened our doors to them and to the Facing History headquarters in New York. It will be exciting to welcome visitors from so far away; and in a way, it makes me feel like I work at a really special place. I know I work with special, amazing people. But to have our school recognized by people across the country as a model for something they might like to do is inspiring and makes me feel proud. I heard from a school in Thailand last night. I could be leaving as early as Aug. 1. I have so much stuff to get rid of. Anyone need a car? Speaking of getting rid of stuff, over vacation I cleaned out my apartment, rearranged furniture, and got rid of some big pieces of furniture — “just put them up for grabs on the curb outside of my house. A bookcase, two chairs, two tables — It felt so good to have them out of my sight! Everything was gone in the matter of an hour, and hopefully they’ve gone to good use. At one point, I looked out of my window and saw a minivan pull into my driveway, loading everything up onto and inside of it. I smiled, seeing that a family was taking it, so I went out and asked if they had any use for a printer. I was debating putting it up for sale eventually, but the family looked so nice and they had kids. Maybe they could really use the printer. It felt better to me to give it away rather than save it for later to sell. The woman in the driver’s seat stuck her head out the window. “You got anything else?” with a tone in her voice implying I might have sacks of gem stones or bars of gold lining my living room walls, maybe a plasma TV that I just didn’t want anymore. My heart sank. I had hoped they’d be appreciative and thankful, maybe show some surprise at the fact that I had almost an entire living room set of furniture out on the sidewalk. Not selfish or choosy. I wanted to tell her my home wasn’t a department store and maybe she should say thank you. But of course, I didn’t. I told her I was planning on selling the other things in my house. “Yeah, we’ll take the printer,” she said, as if it were some kind of consolation prize instead of a perfectly good color printer, complete with USB cables to connect to the computer. Yuck, I thought. People are rude. She had tainted my day with a small grey cloud. The truth is, I would rather have given the printer away — “I’d be glad to give anything away if I knew it was going to someone who was nice, appreciative, humble. I didn’t put anything else out on the sidewalk that day. It was a one-time deal, spoiled by my reaction to someone’s greediness. I know that’s a strong word, “greedy;” but when I feel like I’m doing something good — “and when I want to do something good — “and someone doesn’t recognize it as good, then it sucks. And then I don’t want to do good anymore.