Newbie (9 page)

T
ap, tap, taptaptap. Ignore it. Squeeze eyes. Cover ear with pillow. Tap. Tap. Tap. Ignore it. Tap, tap, taptaptap. The sky is barely gray between the louvers in my window as my eyes twitch with each tap, the sound reverberating against my brain. If I keep them closed and if the tapping stops, I can get maybe another half hour of sleep before my clock screams at me.

My alarm goes off at five thirty instead of six fifteen, so I can get to work early to plan out how to prepare for the next few weeks. This is getting to be my normal wakeup time anyway, since my roommate gets up at this time every morning and practices clogging for an hour before showering. Some mornings I try to sleep through it, but mostly I don’t. I toss and turn, smash a pillow over my head and breathe warm air—grrr—and then toss and turn again. Mina swears I’m exaggerating, saying she hasn’t heard anything—from the other side of the house, I might add.

I’ve been thinking about teaching all weekend. Not really—just yesterday, and only when I wasn’t thinking about Liam. Okay, not much at all. I thought about Liam a lot. But I can do this teacher thing if I plan it out and follow the plan. It will happen. Easy as pie. Oh gads, I’ve never made pie.

At work, I pull out a half-page sticky note and write To-Do List across the top. If I break up the daily lessons into smaller parts and work on each one, I’ll get the planning finished. Six days left in this week, so on Monday, I can plan the math lessons I’ll need for Sept. 19-25. I assign different lessons for each day. When I look over my list, I’m satisfied, pressing it onto the closet door behind my desk.

After work on Monday, I stay in my classroom and pull out my plan book. Okay. Math. I open the cupboard behind my desk looking for the teacher’s handbook. Beth says it has everything I need. It’s not right on top, so I begin looking behind and under the items in the cupboard. Finally, the only way to continue is to pull everything out. I realize that if it isn’t in this cupboard, there are five more along the wall and four more below the counter to search.

Maybe Mrs. Hays has one she could loan me, or at least show me, so I know what I’m looking for. Checking the clock, I notice there’s only a minute before the end of contract time. If I’m going to catch her, I have to go now. As I turn into the hallway, she’s coming out of her room.

“Mrs. Hays, I’m glad I caught you. I’m looking for the teacher’s edition for our math program. I can’t find one for my room and wondered if I could borrow yours.” She’s already shaking her head. Then she kicks the doorstop into her room and lets the door shut.

“Sorry, no.” Without another word she pivots toward the exit and clops away.

I watch for a second, wondering if she meant no, she doesn’t have one, or no, she won’t loan it to me. Either way, looks like I have to find mine.

One by one, I empty each cupboard. Who buys four pencil sharpeners and just shoves them in a cupboard? The number of resources I’ve uncovered is amazing and has buried the entire counter, my small table, and twelve desks on this half of the room.

I look at the heaps and piles. If I move them into groups of like subjects or objects, I would be able to find them when I need them for planning. Brilliant. Several hours later, the trash pile is heaping, and organized piles are arranged neatly around the classroom.

Being organized feels good, almost sacred, like I’ve hallowed the ground of my cupboards and drawers. It’s…what time? I take a second look at the clock. Seven thirty?

I haven’t even planned one lesson or found the math book I need. Okay, I didn’t get the math planned out, but I’m sure everything will be much easier now that I can find everything. It’s been a real time-saver. Beneficial, really. I even have one completely empty cupboard to grow into.

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Subject: Math Manual

September 10, 20077:31 PM

Hi Beth,

I hate to bug you but I’m looking for the math manual you said you used for planning lessons. What does it look like? Do you remember the color? Or the title?

Your class is doing well. They miss you, but the sub is really good with them, and she’s following the plans you’ve sent her.

How are you feeling?

Love ya,

Sophie

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Tuesday after school, Mr. Chavez drops by my classroom. “Mrs. Gregg came to see me today and asked for her son to be moved to another class. She really didn’t have a reason why. I wondered if you knew.”

“Sean had a problem on Friday, not following rules and hitting other children. I spoke with her about it after school. I think it made her mad. She told Sean to ignore me because I wasn’t his mother. That’s probably it.”

“I wondered. When she wouldn’t say why, I thought it must be something she wasn’t proud of. I let her know I wouldn’t be moving him, but I wanted to give you a heads-up. You might have to try extra hard with Sean for a while.”

He leaves, and I’m renewed to start planning. I place my plan book in the center of the desk, open to the week of Sept. 19. Tonight, I need to have math and phonics lessons finished through the twenty-fifth. That’s a lot, but the phonics lessons are short. I can do both. I start with phonics. It’s taking forever—not just deciding what to put on the pages but when my computer sends the pages to the printing queue, it’s so slow, I can almost create a new page in the time it takes to print one. There must be a problem with this computer. I go to accessories, system tools, and then choose defrag. Click yes. This is going to take a few hours. I have the plans for the lessons completed, and I can add the practice pages tomorrow when the computer is running better.

Mina has a great idea to invite Stev and Liam to come over on Friday for dinner and games. Maybe Karlie would like to join the party.

We sit at the dining table to plan the date. “Are we cooking or ordering out?” I ask.

“Cooking, I think. How about fried chicken?” Mina suggests.

“Let’s cook when they get here. You know, cook together,” I say.

“Fun,” Karlie agrees, “We could make pizzas. That cooks quickly.”

“Salads. Garlic bread. And a great dessert,” Mina adds.

“Sundae bar! With brownies.” I pull out a notebook. “What’s on the shopping list?” We plan it out and give assignments to each of us.

On Wednesday, my computer is in peak condition again, and I open email before school.

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RE: math manual

September 12, 2007 6:37 AM

hi sophie,

i’m feeling fine but no one believes me, so i still can’t come back. ☹ the manual

you are looking for is orange with purple splashes across the front. i don’t remember the exact title but it says “teacher’s edition” at the bottom.

:) beth

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I finish reading Beth’s note and realize the math book on the corner of my desk is the lesson book I’ve been looking for.

At lunch, I wander the playground and see Liam in the fields, reffing a soccer game. Jade sits beside the wall of the school with her knees up and her head down, alone.

“Hi, Jade. Can I sit with you?” Her large, bright eyes smile as much as her mouth does. My heart melts, and I sit on the ground beside her. “You were sick this week, huh? How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

“What do you like to do at recess?”

“Swings.”

“Do you want to go to the swings today? I’ll push you.”

Without saying a word, she jumps up and runs to an open swing. It’s easy to feel her simple joy. A little time and attention is all it takes to change her mood. She has the swing moving before I get there and begin to push. The lunch for older students is over now, and their soccer game is breaking up. Liam jogs over and stands beside me.

“Been in any pileups lately?” he asks.

“Just one on Saturday with this road rager I haven’t seen since.” His smile is infectious, sending bubbles streaming through my veins. “By the way, would you like to come to dinner on Friday and stay for some games? My roommates’ dates will be there, too.”

“Yeah, I’ll come, but fair warning, I’m good at most games—you’ll have to bring it.”

“Oh, I plan to keep you on my team.” Because you’re my date. That sounds way too possessive to say out loud, but I like the way it feels to think it. “Come over at seven?” I wish it were six.

“Seven.” He jogs back to a group of younger students starting to kick a ball around.

The swing next to Jade opens up as an older girl goes to class. Another girl in my class, Anna, jumps in the swing and asks me to push her too. I stay at the swings for the rest of the lunch break, pushing each girl in turn.

I probably should have gone right back in after talking to Liam to plan more lessons, but there’s something very relaxing about the rhythm of the swings. The sky is crystal blue today, with a couple of flat clouds far off to the east. When was the last time I stood under the mid-day sky? The bright sunshine warms my hair and black shirt, and a cool breeze trickles by now and again. Walking back to my classroom with my students when lunch is over, I think I needed this as much as I need more lessons.

After school, I head over to the custodian’s room. The students have been complaining that there aren’t enough balls to play with at recess. I checked out our recess basket, and sure enough, it’s half empty.

Walking down the hall, I wonder why I think it is half empty. I’m not usually a half-empty type of person. Am I? Mr. Sam shows me the lost and found. There are a few balls that look familiar—no name on them—must be ours. And there’s one, not familiar, no name, we’ll use it too. I leave with six balls. I can carry four, but I have to kick two in front of me as I go. Not a feat I would have ever imagined I’d be successful at—mostly. A few get away, but I chase them down and start again. Before stashing them in our basket, I write our room number on each of them.

Back at my desk, my blank plan book stares up at me. Okay, buckle down. Three hours later, I’ve finished the practice pages from yesterday and two math lessons.

Thursday afternoon, my students hustle out of my room when the bell rings. Good thing—I’ve got work to do. Sitting at my desk, looking at the To-Do List posted on the closet door, I read it over, pen in hand, excited to check off everything I’ve accomplished. Monday, math. Not done—I can’t check that off. Tuesday, phonics—check. Wednesday, art—no, science—no, music—no, social studies—no. How depressing. I’ve stayed late every day this week and have only one checkmark to show for it? Maybe I should re-think this checklist thing—I don’t think it works. Then I realize I’m focusing on the list “half empty”.

I grab my pen and add “clean cupboards” and “organize cupboards” on this past Monday’s list. Check. Check. On the line for Tuesday, I write in “lessons” after the word “phonics”. Check. I also add “defrag the computer.” Check. “Get balls from lost and found” is added to Wednesday, along with “phonics practice pages.” Check. Check. I look back at the list. Now it shows what I’ve really accomplished.

Next to Wednesday, I add “ask out Liam.” Check. “Grocery shopping.” Check. Since I also prepped two math lessons today, I place two check marks beside “math” on Monday’s list. Each check mark is a day of completed lessons. That’s better. I should do the same for phonics. So where I originally had one check mark for creating the lesson plans, I add four more check marks each for “phonics lessons” and “phonics practice pages.”

Bright blue checkmarks dot the page. This is living with your glass half full.

I work two more hours and have two more math lessons done. Realizing it takes me longer to prepare the math lessons than it does to teach them, I’m a little worried about being prepared to teach.

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Subject: sooooo whatcha doin’?

Thurs. Sept. 13, 20074:58 PM