I suppose it took us a bit to make the transition. She was our first teacher who wore her hair down. Perhaps even the first to wear pants. She was young and beautiful. Our elementary school equilibrium had to date been neatly tucked in pencil skirts and bunned hair. But not Miss Green. We could smell it, this, her “fresh” out of university. 

But we were open. As open as the first team room in Washington Elementary. We played Jackson 5 records on the phonograph before class. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and we listened. She sent us off on “spelling trips” around the globe. We had to write stories together. In groups we created inclusive adventures. Each journey was dependent on every member. And we were hooked. 

We pledged allegiance to the flag, but mostly to her, to our class, and to each other. So when she came to us (Barb, Wendy, Lori and me) one morning and encouraged us to “Be nice to Danny today,” we didn’t question it. We didn’t ask why, or what was wrong. We just did it. Without our knowledge or permission, she had slipped it in, this lesson of empathy. We didn’t even have the word for it then, but we had the ability. She gave us that.

There is a lot of talk about artificial intelligence today — AI. I believe in progress. I believe in growth. Technology. Advancement. I am not afraid of the future. But I am still sure of one thing — human contact can never be replaced. What we learned, working together, there was nothing artificial about it. And it has lasted a lifetime. 

Maybe we just have to keep learning how to learn. If we can do this, stay human while we stay fresh, then maybe we can do anything.