I love Queer Eye.
When it popped up on Netflix I vaguely remembered the show from the early 2000s that I never watched because I have no taste for reality TV, so I scrolled right past it without a second thought. But when a few of my fellow teachers began singing its praises last Tuesday at an end-of-the-year celebration, I decided to check it out if for no other reason than to balance out the extremely dark, intense shows that have occupied watchlist over the last few months (Handmaid's Tale and Westworld, in case you're wondering). It's summer vacation, after all! I could use a little light. I started watching that night and was immediately hooked. My friend hadn't been exaggerating when she said she cried at least once every episode. I think I made it through all of fifteen minutes before something in that first episode rendered me sobbing happy tears. Unlike many reality shows, this show seemed to make a concerted effort to represent thoughtful dialogue and affect meaningful change in the lives of both the subjects and the hosts. Each episode culminates in both an outward and a deeply internal change within the subject. Although I have to question the longevity of these transformations, the premise is simple: people can always strive to be a better version of themselves through introspection, a supportive team, and a fresh haircut.
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When all the Match Day envelopes had been distributed and opened, the hugs of joy and pain exchanged, the tears dried (or at least temporarily held at bay), I said goodbye to my fiance and his family to drive to work. I was a part-time teacher at an elementary school where my day started at 11:30 am. I had just enough time to pull myself together and get to class before 25 4- and 5-year-olds showed up at my music room door where I Had to greet them with a smile and joy.
It's astonishing I even made it to work that day, considering the recklessness with which I drove. I could barely see through the tears that refused to stop for very long, and on the way I called my assistant principal to tell her the news. "So," she said, stealing a few minutes from the meeting she was in, "Do we get to keep you for another year?" "I'm going to Brooklyn" I said with an attempt at a laugh. "Oh..." |
AuthorNashira is a music teacher and proud Small-Town Jew who, after surthriving six years in Brooklyn for her husband's surgical residency, is finally back in Wisconsin where she belongs! At least until the end of the two-year surgical fellowship, that is. It's a wild ride, and she's ready to tell you all about it! Archives
September 2019
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