During my first week of training for the new job, my supervisor, Dena, showed me to my office, where I would be taking kids in groups to provide them with instructional support in math.
“I think you’ll find this is a pretty nice working space,” she said. “Here you’ll find all the unit and resource guides for our Investigations series—err…ummm…what are you looking for?”
“The closet,” I said. “I’ll need a place to lock up the math tiles, dice, fake coin money, geo shapes, base ten blocks, fractals, Legos, eraser heads and counters. These things are made to be airborne. They’ll disappear after the first two classes, and then we’ll find them all over the cafeteria floor.”
She laughed. “We’ve always kept them on these shelves, and it’s never been a problem. Now over here you’ll find all the important phone numbers…what are you doing?”
“Hiding the yardsticks, rulers, compasses, stapler, manual pencil sharpeners and fine-point markers. Weapons, you know.”
She stared for a few seconds and blinked. “I really don’t think it will be an issue. Now on this bulletin are our fire drill and Code Red procedures. In case of an emergency…is there another problem?”
“Yes. I’ve run out hiding places, and there’s nowhere to put the whiteout, glue sticks permanent and dry erase markers. It’s like an open display case for makeshift narcotics.”
“Look, if you’re really concerned about this, you can lock your room every time you leave it,” she said. “The key is here in the doorway.”
“YOU HANG THE KEY RIGHT IN THE DOORWAY? How do you know someone won’t take off with it and break in after school? There’s a Smart Board in here. An electric pencil sharpener. For God’s sake, I’ve got scientific calculators!”
An excerpt from an inner city teacher’s transition into the suburbs…it’s good to be home.
