Do you remember transfer students? I do. I have a very negative and skewed connotation of these people. Remember, you'd be working in class, coloring with map pencils, and all of a sudden, a school administrator walks in your classroom with this foreign person. You learn that they are a transfer student; they have left their former school and have joined your school mid year.
I was so intrigued yet afraid of these people. I always felt that their transfer came with a story. Perhaps, they were kicked out of their old school, maybe they moved from Rhode Island, maybe their father left the family abruptly and their mom had to move to an apartment.
I apologize in advance for my misguided thoughts. I was quite structured and disciplined with school. I had Perfect Attendance all the way until 10th grade. I was the Teacher's Pet from Kinder - 6th grade. So, the thought of transferring is equivalent to forgery, money laundering, and or murder. You just don't do it.
How can one transfer? You have to start all over... What about your permanent record? You know... That record that our parents and school administrators spoke about... If you are a transfer it can be dirtied, filthy, filled with conflicting school dialogue, different color ink, and hand prints from different people shuffling it around.
Transfer students are like James Dean; they are rebels.
I found out my husband was a transfer student. it broke my heart. It took me a while to get over.
1 comment:
I was a transfer student. I loved meeting transfer students because I knew they had a story such as I.
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