the elixir of youth.

So today I had to go visit pre-service teachers in their schools and chat to them and their classroom teachers. All was going swimmingly until a middle aged integration aide decided to come and have a chat to me. She was very confident with herself and I thought 'good for you', but couldn't quite work out why she appeared to be speaking to me as if I was very young and very in need of her guidance....Then she asked me a question I haven't been asked in quite some time....'So what year of your course are you in? 3rd or 4th?'

Oh darling, I'm sorry, but there is no way to break this to you easily.Whichever way I choose I fear you are likely to be mortified.

I pointed at my badge which said, 'Dr...' and said quietly, 'I'm a lecturer, not a student'.

Deathly, awkward silence ensued. Finally she squeaked out 'I think that student needs my help' as she scurried across the other side of the classroom and buried her face in a book.

Still it was marginally less awkward than the early days of my teaching career when I looked like a teenager in a tracksuit and a parent came up on camp and asked me in a oh-so parental tone if I was enjoying camp and making new friends, and I had to politely inform her that I was a teacher not a student.

So clearly I have something that suggests the elixir of youth as I rapidly approach middle age....I'm thinking it could be the spring in my step, my ponytail, my total lack of any appearance of responsibility or maturity - I'm not sure these things are all positives....