A Plethora of Awkwardness

I'M BACK! Oh jezz, don't you hate me for leaving you awkwardless for two whole months? My apologizes, BUT you are in for a real treat BECAUSE . . . I have a plethora of awkward stories from the past two months.

Awkward Story #1: Never Try to Shake a Blind Person's Hand
Last month some time, I had my first meetings with students and parents without any help from another teacher, SEOPS. The first meeting started off rough; I forgot to do half of the paperwork that I should have, but no worries I was trudging forward regardless. Halfway through the day I had a meeting set-up with a Hispanic student and his mother. The student walked in and sat down at the table alone. His mother awkwardly peered around the corner and shuffled into the room. He spoke to her in Spanish, and I assumed he was just communicating to her to come sit down and join us. She never did, but rather awkwardly walked up to the table (never looking at me) and stood. I assumed that maybe she didn't speak English at all (or not well) and was possibly embarrassed to address me. I was going to be a good, friendly teacher and make her feel comfortable, so I stood up, stretched forth my hand, smiled, and said "Hi, I'm Mrs. Alvey." When she never flinched to look my way, never noticed my hand awkwardly dangling before her, and began talking to me but facing the wrong direction, I realized. SHE IS BLIND! The instant glare from the student said exactly what I was thinking, "Dumbass."

Awkward Story #2: My Bad
Last Friday my first hour class was reading a short story titled, "A Smart Cookie," which is a story told first in English, and then repeated in Spanish. I knew from the "Blind person" incident that there was at least one student in the class that could speak Spanish, and I assumed a few others. I threw the question out to the class for someone that could read the Spanish section to please do so. None would willingly offer. My next action, my brain yelled "Noooo," but my mouth said, "Luis, will you read it?" Ok, in my defince this kid's name is Luisandro Chavez (clearly Hispanic, right?). Yet again, I get another "Dumbass" glare and a briquse retort of "I'm not Mexican. I'm Native." All I could think to say was, "My bad" (awkward smile, quick change of the subject).

Awkward Story #3: Never Pull a Hangnail Before an Important Interview
If you know me well at all you know I have a "horrible" habit of bitting my finger nails and ripping off hangnails. My fingers always look like they have been attacked by a sharp object. When I get nervous the "horrible" habit occurs with much more frequency. Yesterday, I drove up to South Sanpete School District for my very first interview for two English teaching positions. I was naturally EXTREMELY nervous, and thus my habit of attacking my fingers was occuring unstoppably. I sat in the lobby of the district office, waiting to be called in, and that's when I saw it, a hangnail on a finger on my left hand, and I thought "Do not pull it. It will bleed." I pulled it anyway. Of course it started gushing blood, a lot of blood, enough blood to cover my finger and right palm. I spotted a bath room and rushed in to wash it away just as the prinicpal was coming out to get me. When I came out my hands were still pretty wet, but he stuck out his hand to shake mine. Maybe I should have pulle dthe blind card because he looked at my oddly and said, "Wow, your hands are cold." I quickly tried to explain: "My finger started bleeding, so I hurried and washed my hands, and they're still kind of wet." (awkward smile/giggle) Yet again, another "Dumbass" look.