On Seeing Faces

My mum has this theory about faces and the look of people. Thanks to genetics and races and the way the world works, there are certain groups of faces that look like each other. It is therefore highly likely that when on holiday you are going to convince yourself that you are seeing certain people that you know. The chance of a face being truly unique is highly unlikely.

This is an extended lead up to me saying that a lot of my students look like people I know. And it is really creepy. Seriously, they look like people I know, but five years younger. Or the same age, for my B.T.S classes. But even if I can’t pin it down, it is so easy to pick out these faces. There are certain students that I would swear I had gone to school with, but I can’t figure out who they look like. And it all leads me to think that people just generally look a little similar. It makes the world feel all a little smaller.

It can be awful, that moment when you look at someone and they remind you so much of someone else. Mostly though, here, it is a comfort. It is amusing to realise that it is not just their faces, but their personalities that match and that maybe it wasn’t their faces that I was responding to at all. It was what expressions were on them. Serious faces, cheeky smiles, shy blushes, cold stares.  Knowing that it is all the same here is kind of nice. It’s a warm thing, which makes home seem not so far away. I get along with my students because not so long ago I was exactly like them.

Because it’s true, everything is exactly the same. I wonder if our teachers noticed our love lives, picked up on what was happening to us, knew when we were having a bad day and wondered why an earth this girl was so quiet or that boy so damn loud. I wonder these things. I learn the names of my students by remembering their personalities, who they sit with, if they were mean to another kid, if they have a girlfriend, if I see them flirting with someone new every day. I notice. I’m not sure if it’s because I am closer to their age (although most of my students were born in 97, which seems baby-like to me), or if all teachers notice and file these things away.

It’s so easy to find the girl that I was in these classes or to find that person and this person and understand the groups. But I wonder, if I have changed so much since I was 15, who will these people become?