We’re Overdosed

My student, a tall, blonde, young woman, perhaps thirtyish but with sad eyes, put her tray down on my table, sat opposite me and asked, “why do you teach this course?” She creased her forehead expectantly, emphasizing the question as she waited for my response.

“Yeah,” another student asked, “Are you an addict too?” It was clear they were all curious about me, in part, they explained, because so many people had written them off in their lifetimes. They were all former addicts, training to be counselors and dedicating themselves to preventing others from heading down addiction street. Their old, drug-using lifestyles made them all expect to receiving attention only from other drug users.

I swallowed and said, “No, I’m not an addict. I just like to teach,” I explained with a smile and added, “I pay back community service and I do that because the government paid my salary back when I was a postdoctoral fellow. This course also keeps me teaching young people, and I enjoy that too. I taught medical school when I began my career, and I was good at it, but teaching was the only part of being a faculty member I ever missed.”