“Thanks,” I tell Travis. “I’ll keep an eye out for their email.”
The smile on my face when I show up for the first Adulting Club meeting on Saturday may have something to do with the fact that I won two hundred bucks from Dalton. He’s not usually a bad poker player, but he was too focused on sexting with someone and showing off the nudes he was getting.
I don’t know who was sending him pictures, but they need to learn to focus or angle their shots a little better. The last photo looked like a dog’s lips when it sticks its head out of a car window. We called it a night when he decided to take some dick pics to send back.
Who says romance is dead?
The first meeting is being held in the student center, and I have no idea what kind of turnout to expect. Fifteen students signed the interest sheet, but I’ll be happy if half that show up. The student center is the main hub of the community college side of the campus and is usually well populated with students using the computers, getting something from a vending machine, or just hanging out with friends around one of the shiny wooden tables. Today is no different.
“If you’re here for the Adulting Club, we’re meeting in room B,” I announce, nodding toward a door in the back. I’m pleased to see at least eight students get to their feet and head that way.
“Owen, you can’t be an adult!” a student calls out from one of the tables, drawing laugher from the room. I recognize the student from one of my classes last semester, and he grins at me. “Lost cause, Mr. Aldrich. That boy is a big box of stupid.”
Before I can respond, Owen retorts, “Dude, quit worrying about me and get your ass to the gym. I’ve seen ostriches with bigger calves.”
The student center monitor looks at me with her lips pressed together when I can’t help but laugh at them along with everyone else. Another birthday hasn’t matured my sense of humor any. “Let’s go, Mr. Wright,” I chuckle, following him into room B.
“I don’t think Mrs. Fillon likes you, Mr. A,” Owen laughs, taking a seat at the table. Owen is the typical class clown, a lot like I used to be before I had to pretend to be a professional.
“You don’t appear to be her favorite person either.”
A titter goes around the room. All in all, it wasn’t the worst way to break the ice. I want this club to be educational and for them to leave with new skills, but I also want it to be fun. These kids are stressed and stretched too thin by work and classes as it is. The goal is to make things better for them, not add to that.
“Okay.” I take a seat at the long table with them. “Welcome to Adulting Club. First, I want to say there will be absolutely no judgement or belittling going on here for not knowing some of the life skills we’re going to be learning. I know there’s a lot of that being thrown at you from older generations. I’m not sure how failing to teach these skills—either at home or at school—became the fault of the students, but it doesn’t apply here.
“I started this program because there were so many things that I realized I had no idea how to handle once I was on my own. I mean, I could tell you that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell or identify a parallelogram, but strangely, those vital lessons have yet to become helpful.”
Chuckles run through the room as I continue. “Some of this stuff you may know and that’s great. You can help the others learn, but I guarantee all of you will walk away with new skills that make the transition to independence smoother.”
I look around the table. “I recognize a few faces, but let’s introduce ourselves.” The girl sitting across from me is familiar, and I realize she’s the one who isn’t good at speaking in front of a group, judging by the way she stumbled through in class. The one who asked me about crabs walking sideways. Her expression tightens, and I’m sure she’s remembering that moment too.
“Ms. Bryant, right?” I ask.
“Yeah, Kelly Bryant.” She glances around the table with a small smile. “Hi.”
Unlike in class she isn’t shaking with nerves or tripping over her words. Maybe she’s more comfortable in smaller groups.
“Welcome to the group.” I nod at Owen to continue, and we go around the table, everyone sharing their names.
“All right, then. We won’t always meet here. Most of what we’re going to learn isn’t possible in a classroom. I’ll go over a couple of things I have planned and if you have any ideas, anything you’re struggling with or want to learn, I’m happy to add to our lesson plan.”
I hand each of them a printout of skills and watch as they scan it.
“Do we have to come to every club meeting? Because I don’t want to learn to swim,” a guy named Milo says.
“No, it’s up to you when you want to attend club meetings. We aren’t taking attendance or earning grades, but swimming is an important safety skill, so I hope you’ll reconsider. The local community center has offered to let us in on their lessons with professional lifeguards doing the teaching.”
He nods but doesn’t seem convinced. It’s a discussion for later. “We’re also lucky that a friend of mine flips houses as a hobby and he has an empty house where we can practice some basic maintenance. The auto shop wing here will also let us use their space and tools to practice basic car maintenance, learn to change a tire, check fluids, et cetera. Same for the culinary department. We’ll be borrowing their kitchen—and a teacher—to learn some cooking skills.”
Kelly surprises me by speaking up. “I’ll sit those lessons out, unless you want to keep a fire extinguisher nearby.” Good natured laughter rattles through the room, and she smiles. “I’ve already been responsible for one grease fire.”
“If you set anything on fire, then we’ll learn how to put it out.” It’s not a bad idea, showing them the difference in what to do to extinguish different types of fire.
“You didn’t throw water on it, did you?” Milo asks. “My dad did that to put out a grease fire when he was trying to deep fry a turkey. No one got hurt, but…it did not go well for our garage.”
Kelly shakes her head. “No, it was at work. A manager put it out by covering it.”
The rest of the session goes well. We spend it getting to know each other, and I’m glad to see everyone is talkative and eager to suggest things they need to learn.
It’s exactly what I expected to happen. Without the worry of being ridiculed, these new adults are motivated and eager to fill those gaps in knowledge.
“Okay, for our next session, we’ll meet at the fixer upper house. It’s not too far away but if anyone needs transportation from the school, just email to let me know and we can share some rides. The address of the house is on the back of the sheet I gave you.” Glancing around at them, I add, “You’re all going to show up, right?”
Some smiles and nods are followed by Owen’s scoff, “Yes, god, Mr. A, don’t stress. It comes off as a little needy.”
“You can be the one to unclog the toilet, Mr. Wright. Thanks for volunteering. See you all in a few days.”
Talking amongst themselves, they all filter out of the room. All in all, I think that went well.