Tuesday, July 29, 2014

First Year Teacher Story


On Jun 12, 2014 8:27 PM, "------ ------------" <---------.-------@gmail.com> wrote:

Dear -----,

So, from reading your profile it sounds like you’re a math major? I can only speak on behalf of most English majors, but for the most part, we are not overly sentimental, and neither am I (except for crying at all weddings, most parades, and a few Kodak commercials). When not sipping espresso, or re-reading Infinite Jest I am scrolling through Cute Overload, dining alone, and listening to public radio like most other single white liberal women my age. ;-)

So yes, I am a teacher. And yes, I have lots of funny student stories. On Tuesday, one of the last days of school, a student greeted me, in full sincerity, "Oh, I didn't think you had any pants on." This was a fun way to start the day.  My capris were a clay color, not transparent!

But I should tell you what I always tell people when they ask for my first-year teaching story. 

I started off teaching 9th grade English in ____________. If you have never been there before, it's pretty economically depressed. Lots of abandoned factories (for making ice machines), abandoned railroad lines, and shady strip clubs. The school I was teaching at was supposedly on the "rough" side of town; most of the students were on free/reduced lunch and weren't afraid to fully express themselves with raw and colorful language in the classroom. While it is still Wisconsin, it was a whole lot different from what it's like where I live now. However, I completely adored the school and the staff, especially the principal, who is an incredibly smart and progressive educator, but also professionally terrifying.  Every moment with her was like a live, personal TedTalk.

But for that first year, I had a particularly tough class 3rd hour with students from families my mentor had coached me were "bad news," "'could do no wrong'" or were “somehow tangled in the prison system.”  Right away, the kids obviously tested me. I'm soft-spoken and gentle by nature, and my first year I hadn't yet found my teacher voice.  A lot of being a teacher, I've learned, is becoming an actor at key moments.

That year on Valentine's Day (I can't remember what we were studying --not Romeo and Juliet. Maybe The Crucible) I was exhausted by 5th hour, as usual, and for lunch slumped right down into my chair at my desk. I had the bad habit of eating alone that year. But as I began eating, I noticed my keyboard wasn’t sitting flat. I tried to adjust the little feet underneath but something was in the way.  I lifted it up and found three bronze coins. At first I thought they were scuffed Sacagawea coins. Sometimes the janitor would set dimes or lost earrings she found when sweeping up the night before.  But as I took a closer look, I noticed two figures on the face of the coin rather than just one. Later I found out they were Spintria tokens. 

Supposedly, Spintria coins are bronze or brass coins dating back to Ancient Rome and were used to overcome language barriers in brothels (according to Wikipedia).  Today they’ve taken on more playful use and supposedly can be purchased at most adult bookstores. So naturally, when I found them, I panicked. I immediately felt guilty and thought surely someone would catch me and assume they were mine. That I was exchanging them with children. My teaching career would be over, as I would instantly become a registered sex offender. I couldn't think, and kids were already coming into the room for the next class. So I hid them in a coffee canister of crayons in the bottom drawer of my desk. 

The next period I took the coins to my mentor during her prep. She barely examined the coins, and without even flipping them over said, "Take these to Kathy. Now."  

I found the principal in the cafeteria and asked to speak with her in private. She pulled me into the walk-in freezer.  (Creepy?!) I was already soo intimidated by her but also in love (in a weird, role model sort of way, you know?)   I tried to tell my story, but was nervous, and finally just handed over the evidence. She took one look, chuckled, and said, "Oooooh, thank you for learning with me!" as she motioned me out of the freezer. That was it.

To this day I don't know who left me the coins.  I didn't say anything to the class. I didn't want any of the students to have the satisfaction that they'd scared the shit out of me. They knew I was green, and I, of course, knew they knew. What else could I do?  

And without a doubt, I was later roasted by my colleagues. At a dinner party in May, my mentor placed a tiny net of gold chocolate coins at each place setting, and I was forced to begin perfecting this story. 

Well, your summer sounds fun!  I have no big travel plans but hope to camp at least once.  What class are you maybe taking? Are you a big baseball fan?

Bon soir!

P.S. I really want to play Scrabble with you! ;)


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