My pickney grew up!

Visiting Belize was like a homecoming: seeing my Belizean family, my Belizean home, and my former students. I was surprised to see that most things around the town had stayed the same. The stores, the restaurants, the city plaza, the tortilla factories, and even my old school hadn't changed very much. I felt like I had never left. 

However, my students, "my pickney," in the local Creole parlance, changed dramatically. So much so that I even had to ask a few of them who they were. They all looked so much older, wiser, and much more grown-up. 

When they came to visit, I caught myself doing double and triple takes, amazed at the young adults that they had become. These were the same children who sang and danced around my classroom; who recited the entire poem of Shel Silverstein's "Sick"; who played kickball with the passion only kids can have; who completely obliterated what I thought was an indestructible cockroach pinata; who hugged my waist so tight I couldn't move.

Now they are as tall as I am (if not a little bit taller).

Of my original class of 22, I got to see four of them during this trip. Unfortunately, three more came by after we had already left. 

Thank you Steven, Kimberley, Mareli, and Adreli for stopping by and finding me. Sorry I missed you Edgar, Cindy, and Jonathan. I'm so very proud of you and who you have become. Next time I'm in Belize we are having a class reunion. Maybe even with a cameo appearance of "Freddie."