Similarities and Differences

Just Like You

Thursday, August 3

Today my niece, Ava, and I went back to the school because she wanted to help me set up my classroom. I had a minimal amount of things for my classroom at the old school because they didn't have any teaching stores around there. I didn't really wanna invest a lot in random decorations when nobody else in the school did, but this year, I could see that posters were a must, based off of the other classrooms I had visited yesterday.

The cost of living is so much higher in Iowa. I saved a lot of my money in attempt to move away eventually. I just didn't expect to move out of that dump town until after I was 30. I'll be making more here in Iowa, but I made a sufficient amount in Alabama, surprisingly. Ava takes out a big chunk of my income, and that's okay with me, but I still don't know how we afforded our house and pulled off remodeling it.

As we were putting up posters, and stuff, I realized how little we have. Other teachers here have a lot of books, and I have about fifty books to loan to kids. That's not a lot. I didn't really trust the kids in Alabama to bring me my books back or bring them back in one piece. Financially, right now, I can't really afford to invest more into this classroom. I'm not broke, and I'd like to keep it that way.

"I never really thought about how much work putting a classroom together is," Ava said as she was putting the few books I had on the tiny bookshelf I bought yesterday. "I thought the school just provided it."

I smirked a little. "Ha, I wish."

"I wanna be a teacher just like you."

She has told me this about a hundred times. "I know ya do, by why?"

"Well, I just wanna convince people to like reading."

"Do you want to teach elementary or middle school or high school?"

"I don't know. I feel like I would get closer to the students if I taught elementary. A lot of kids don't have good families and a lot of kids don't have moms, so that's also part of my mission."

That shouldn't sting, but it does. "You're right." For those of you who don't know, Ava's mom is in prison.

"I just want to show people how to be happy even if they don't have a perfect home life." She finished up putting the books on the bookshelf.

"That's awesome."

"And for the record, I'm okay with not having a mom because I have you."

I was writing random information on the whiteboard, like my name and "August 23" because that's the date we start school. I looked down at her as she put her arm around me.

I put the marker down and gave her half of a hug. "You're so sweet." She is. I have no idea where she got it, to be honest. I'd like to say she got it from me, but I don't know about that. I know she didn't get it from her mom...

"No, really, I'm so lucky that I didn't get stuck with an uncle who didn't want anything to do with me."

I pulled her into a real hug. "Well, I'm just glad I didn't get stuck with a niece who didn't want anything to do with me."

"Why did you want to take me in?"

I don't think she's ever asked me this before.

I pulled away to put the cap on my brand new marker.

I sighed. "I didn't want my little niece going somewhere with some stranger when I knew I would do everything I could to make your life as good as it could be. I wasn't willing to send you away to someone who may not love you like their own or treat you well."

"Did you want to adopt me at first?"

No, I didn't.

"I was scared that I was going to ruin your life."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Ava is pretty wise for her age, but there are some things she still doesn't get.

"I'm an imperfect human who makes mistakes. I also didn't have good parental examples growing up."

She took that in, but I could tell her mind had already gone somewhere else. The brain of a nine-year-old. "Can I ask you a question?"

"I think you just did." I folded my arms, leaning against the whiteboard, careful not to put my weight on the tray that holds the markers. "But if you wanna ask another, that's fine, too."

"Do you think of me as your niece or your daughter?"

"You're my niece, but I treat you like you're my daughter. I think the only difference between you and me and a father and daughter is you call me by my name."

"Why won't you let me call you Dad?"

"Because that would mean I had a relationship with your mom, and I surely didn't."

She laughed a little, even though I was dead serious. "Okay, Steven."