There were at least four students in the class with conjunctivitis. Just when the neighborhood kids’ eyes were clear and I thought I could let down my guard. Because of course the more I reminded myself, “Don’t rub my eyes, don’t rub my eyes,” the more imaginary specks of dust would land in my eyes, begging to be rubbed away.
I told the class I was scared for my eyes and one student wondered why this should be because my eyes and his eyes are not the same. I said, “It does not matter. Blue eyes or brown eyes…all of them can get conjunctivitis.” Then, of course, they wanted to know how to spell conjunctivitis. And then I felt I should warn against touching their eyes. And then one student wanted to know how to cure con-con-conjunct-conjunctivitis.
But after all, our collective health was at stake. Fractions could wait.
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