Morgan Hooker

Undecided

Ecology

Yes, My dad is Mr. Hooker. The 7th grade science teacher. The one who was obsessed with Vocabulary.com and gave “hard” tests. The ecology nut who donned the astronaut bee-keeper suit and got stung so many times he became unrecognizable. 

Being a teacher’s kid has its perks. North Kirkwood Middle School was my playground. I rode wheely chairs around the halls and used my outside voice inside. I had free access to dad’s candy drawer and the back closet (fair warning, more often than not there are dead frogs in the fridge). The courtyards were my kingdom, the chickens my children and the bees my frenemies.

But the weird thing about it all is that most people knew who I was before I did. You know when you go to a family gathering and relatives you’ve never seen before know everything about you? Well that’s my life every day because my dad knows everyone on Earth. From the moment I walked through the door, my path was pretty much already decided. Teachers either held me when I was a baby or knew my dad and sisters (while some never made the connection because Hooker is such a common last name, bless their hearts). I did my best to live up to the expectations and stay on the yellow brick road, but yellow isn’t really my color. I’ve always been very aware of the shadow I live under and it’s been nice and shady, but finding my way out is a little hard in the dark. 

As you read above I’ll be studying ecology (you’ll never guess where that came from), but all of this makes me worry. Is my life already set? I mean both nature and nurture aren’t really on my side here. I don’t know if being a teacher’s kid made me a carbon copy of my family, but I do know one thing. I will never be a teacher.