Chairlift Chatter

Some of the richest conversations I have in my life take place on the chairlift. True, I’m usually the only one in the chair, but I have some damn good conversations with myself. More ideas for lessons and projects have been hatched with the wind in my face and the snow swirling in my eyes. For some reason when I’m perched on that seat with my snowboard swinging from my left foot my mind is clear, my intellect keen. But it’s the other conversations, the ones where the other side of the chairlift is actually occupied, that leave their mark. Several years ago I had a group of 4 or 5 sixth grade students who were equally fanatic about riding their snowboards as their teacher. Many Saturdays and Sundays that winter I would run into these little Johnnies on the slopes. The chats I had with whichever one of these junior flying tomatoes were priceless. We talked about snowboards, boots, music, movies, families, problems, fears, dreams---anything but school. I told my wife on more than one occasion I got more teaching done on a 5-minute chairlift ride than I could ever hope to achieve in nine months in the classroom. Today as I was thinking of some of those conversations in the lift line the operator hailed me to the front of the line to ride with another single. The chair swung around, my plopped down, we headed up the slope and I turned to greet my fellow chair jockey.
“Great day, huh” I chirped enthusiastically. My partner turned to me and smiled widely behind a huge pair of yellow goggles, and under a heavy hat and hood. “Is that you Mr. T?” Bam. Another conversation with a former student. In that short ride this young man, certainly not the best student I’ve taught, and one who on more than one occasion was on the wrong end of a blistering butt chewing, talked to me about things he had not spoken to an adult about in years. Problems with his mom and step-dad, his decision to move in with his dad, mistakes he made that led to a move from one high school to another, recent successes in the classroom. One of those conversations you just can’t have with your feet on the ground. Before unloading I wished him luck and invited him to keep in touch. He replied, “You know Mr. T you always rode my ass in class, thank you for that, you helped me more than you will ever know.” We unloaded and headed our separate ways. I hope through the course of all that chairlift chatter over the years I managed to make a difference in someone’s life, I know they made a difference in mine.