Others really do see you better than you see yourself:
“Are you finished talking about your brassieres yet?” someone asked me the other night, at the end this lovely evening I spent with my Shakespeare pals, reading Henry V and eating great food.
My eyes widened. Finished talking about my bras? My BRAS? Had I fallen asleep during the reading and talked in my sleep? About my bras?! In front of these lovely people?
Then I realized that he was talking about this blog and what I wrote about for much of last week.
Which was bras, all right,even my bras, God help me.
I had forgotten that this man had told me he reads me every day here and so he really knows me, of course he does.
He sees the unvarnished day-by-day truth of who I am in the same way students know their teachers: in other words in ways that teachers might not imagine. The kids really do 'see' their teachers. They see them when they’re annoyed and when they’re tired, when they’re excited and when they’re eyes travel out the window during test times and anyone can see that their thoughts have moved far from the classroom.
They know when the teacher has had a haircut, even a tiny trim. “Miz Marotta! New shoes!!” my own students would call happily on days when I was a young teacher and showed up now and then with fresh footwear.
So what can I say here to the elegant bow-tie-wearing man who asked me that question? Yes, I am finished writing about bras, my bras, the bras of others, bras on dogs, what have you.
At least for now.
And I'm finished showing pictures of bras. Well, almost finished, as you can see.
Tomorrow It's on to bathing suit bottoms.
