single lady

Yesterday I got a new class of Intro kids. These students have completed lots of phonics classes with Korean teachers at my academy. My class will be their first experience with speaking English exclusively for forty minutes. They are often quiet that first day, hoping to mask their panic with politeness, I would imagine. (They get over it by the way. Sometimes in a matter of minutes, the little monsters.)

After doing my best to put them at a little ease, I opened the floor to questions they might have about me or the class.

Little Yuna raised her hand.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Oh, how I love this question. And, oh, how my students love asking. It (or its first cousin,"Are you married?") is second in frequency only to, "How old are you?" I'm bracing myself for the day one of them asks, "How much do you weigh?" or "Do you have a substance abuse problem?"

"No," I answered

"But." (Yuna seemed confused) "You are beautiful!"

I didn't know whether to feel shamelessly delighted at her flattery or exasperated at the familiar assumption that the unpartnered are, by definition, flawed. I smiled and shrugged and tried to settle for somewhere in the middle.

I mean, I'm the first to champion Beyonce's sentiments (not to mention her dance moves) regarding the defense, nay, celebration of being alone.

But who'm I kidding? In my experience, it's more like:

Yes, I'm a single lady.
And no, there's nothing wrong with me.

Which hardly has the same ring to it.

You'll pardon the pun.