When I Grow Up

Last week, I was discussing professions with my jovenes. Before asking them what they wanted to be when they grow up, I asked them what their parents did, and of course, they turned the question on me. When I told them that my father is a middle school principal, these middle schoolers seemed to get a little intimidated. Their eyes got wide, and they all went, "oooh." Then on Friday, they were eerily quiet. Too quiet. Could it be they suddenly think I have clout, that I can send them to detention? I know I'm not that lucky. They'll be bouncing off the walls on Monday again for sure, I just know it.

After learning their parents professions, it's clear that they come from the upper crust of Cuzcanean society. The doctors, lawyers, engineers, and accountants can afford to send their kids to extra English classes, so they can get into better schools and get better jobs. That's such a difference from being at the orphanage on Saturday. Many of the girls there have parents, they just can't afford to take care of their children. One of the girls got a visit from her father and brother on Saturday. Another girl asked me how old I was. When I told her I was 25, she told me I was the same age as her mother. And she's 10 years old.