Spring breeze in the classroom.
I love this springtime weather, the air thick and humid, alive with the blossoms on the trees, the smell of the outdoors drifting softly in through the windows, the soft and seemingly distant sound of the birds as they chirp, a spirited chorus in a world still free, the green leaves of the freshly budded trees vibrant and lush against the dark hues of the sky.
Inside the classroom, the tan of the students’ uniforms is mild against the soft wood color of the desks, forty black heads of hair, over half in bangs, thick big lenses the mode of style, orderly arranged and seated in eight rows of five desks that obediently face the front.
Due to a schedule change, this is the second time I teach this class today, and consequently my entrance was calm, the students a little more tired than the morning, the air warm and comfortable enough to softly slip into sleep.
I stand in the front as their heads are bent over crossword puzzles, occasionally they look up thoughtfully, make eye contact with me and hold it for a moment before the corner of my mouth smiles and they giggle and look away.
As I walk around the room, the students working at their journals, the breeze from the window pulls at my senses. Conversation rises and falls around the room, there is a quiet echo of the math teacher’s voice from the hallway, the doors at the front and back of the classroom are both open, the room is peaceful and calm, a secluded space with full awareness of the school activity down the hall and the tops of the trees in the world outside the third floor windows.
The spring breeze is incredibly moving to me. It is fragrant, thick, full of memory, heavy with longing, with the present, with the past, of Taiwan, of California, of greenhouses tucked warmly away in cold spring days of the Midwest, of puddle jumping in the streets as the rain beats down on our heads, laughter and study and friendship and family, so full of new life, peaceful and warm, everything connected, we are old and we are young and this is life: a spring breeze that softly passes through the classroom window.
