I am a high school teacher. Some of my kids have figured out that I have Twitter, some know I blog (though none of them care since I write about mom stuff) and some of them have even figured out that I'm on Reddit (one even FOUND me on Reddit. I was impressed. I gave him extra credit.). They know that I like zombie movies, and that I LOVE Bones. A few know I like to run, they all know that I'm a mom (though I'm sure none of them realize that means I spent at least half an hour a day dancing in my living room with my son to Mama Mia).
A few of my debaters know that I really am a policy coach at heart, which has a connotation somewhere between a bummy college techie and a conspiracy theorist. A few know that I'm a vegetarian. And I think only one knows that I lean towards the practices of Buddhism.
What all these things add up to is the fact that every day when I stand in front of my classroom and make korny jokes just so I will get to see them make a weird faces, and I teach them crazy stuff about Power Point and watch them get excited about technology, and talk about robot autonomy (yes, I teach a whole unit on robot autonomy), I wonder if they see me as a real person.
I know in high school I didn't see my teachers as real people; they were teachers who had no cares or lives outside of my classroom. Now, the "not real people" is a metaphor, but a lot of times I wonder if my kids literally see me that way.
Then again, it is weird for me to see my kids in street clothes (they wear uniforms) and it is REALLY weird to see them outside of school.
My kids know I'm weird, and if they had any idea how weird I actually am...well, I can't really fathom what that would be like. Then again, I know my kids are kids, and I know I don't know the half of it.