Chapter Thirty-One: All in a Day's Work

Chapter 31: All in a Day’s Work

4:00 a.m.

The buzzer sounds and snap, I’m out of bed. Step one, retrieve the newspaper from outside my apartment door. I love having the local paper delivered before I awaken so I can be aware of all the news by the time I arrive at school. Did a relative of one of my students get arrested? Was there an incident in the public schools and the child or children involved will soon be coming my way? Is there a national or international story I want my staff to discuss in class? The paper arrives about 3:30 a.m.; I’ve heard the thump in the hallway. Most people in Lakeboro don’t get the paper quite so early. I wonder if my paper deliverer lives in my apartment complex. Now if only I could get the NY Times delivered….

It is mid-October, but it is already 72 degrees before the sun rises. My morning run of 6 miles is slower than I want. It is steamy and humid with heavy fog. I run past Carolyn, one of my bus drivers, slowly navigating our Prospect school bus out of the parking lot. After my shower, I put on my short-sleeved lime green suit over a sleeveless off -white blouse. I am now ready to handle whatever this day holds for me.

7:00 a.m.

There is a flood underneath the portable that is my office. Vince, the custodian, informs me a water pipe broke and all the water for campus has been shut off. No water fountains, no toilets. It should be fixed soon. . . .

Shandon’s mother is waiting on the doorstep when I arrive at school and she is irate. It seems her son is the last child dropped off the bus in the afternoons. I express sympathy and suggest we all talk with Shasta, my transportation coordinator, to see what we can do. She refuses to speak with Shasta saying Shasta doesn’t have any children and therefore can’t understand (actually Shasta has a six year old son, Quinn); she will only speak with me. I listen and promise to call her later after I talk with Shasta.

8:00 a.m.

In the morning meeting I introduce our newest teacher, Sam Hughes. Sam, a white, thirty-something, former military man, will be a math teacher. Sam has never taught math; his last job was as an investigator at DCF, but he has a degree in business and has been taking education courses to become a certified math teacher. Sam is chatty and likes to talk about his wife, children, stepchildren and house repairs. During the interviews (both phone and face-to-face) my impression of Sam is that he genuinely wants to teach and enjoys helping children learn new skills. He is focused on discipline and referenced his military service as a model for creating a productive learning environment. However I sense that Sam accepted this job more to escape DCF than because of his drive to teach challenging students. During the interview, he is just a little too eager to tell me, unprompted, about the horrors of his DCF job. I am a little concerned about his ability to form relationships with our students, but I hope that by assigning him to the Daphne and Jordan team, they will mentor and coach Sam on this since it is an area of strength for both of them. I think the three of them will work well together. In the morning meeting, we do what we always do with new staff; we go around the table introducing ourselves and telling what we do at Prospect. When it comes to Stone he always says something vaguely inappropriate. Today he says “I don’t do anything here, ask Kathleen. I hate the kids and they hate me.” Then, for good measure, Stone ends his introduction punching his fist in the air and declaring: “The South will rise again.”

After the introductions, Rosie asks if we can discuss fourteen-year-old Lorayne. Before the school year started, I envisioned morning meetings including a discussion of a different student each day. The reality: often there is no time in our morning meetings for discussions of individual students; we have so many pressing problems and vital information to convey. But sometimes a student is our pressing problem and we are able to devote a few minutes to a discussion of that student. Today Rosie tells us Lorayne, of tongue ring fame, has been absent a lot recently. When she does show up, she is never in uniform and has prominent circles under her eyes. Yvonne interrupts to say she has had trouble getting in touch with the woman Lorayne calls mother but who is really her grandmother. Stephanie interjects that she heard Lorayne’s grandmother is in the hospital. If the grandmother is in the hospital, with whom is Lorayne living?
We will get our answer soon.

8:40 a.m.

Lorayne is dropped off at school by a man in a grey pickup truck. When Rosie asks, Lorayne identifies him as her boyfriend, proudly adding that he is 44 years old and they are living together. Rosie calls DCF. She gets the impression this case won’t be a priority. Rosie tells our Deputy and he calls DCF. They promise to have someone come out to our school. They don’t. We hold out hope until mid-afternoon when the Deputy takes matters into his own hands.

8:50 a.m.

Noreen is back after her bout with strep throat. She has been absent since the first quarter Award Ceremony. She and I need to talk. I ask her about the missed Award ceremony. She tells me she was at the hospital that night because her finger broke when she played basketball with our students. Her finger is taped, but I don’t believe her. I question why she didn’t phone me from the emergency room. She says she forgot her cell phone; she says she didn’t have a quarter for the pay phone; she says she forgot my phone number. I tell her I need to see the discharge papers from the hospital and Noreen hands them to me. Everything is in order except at the bottom of the page, next to the signature lines. It doesn’t take a professional sleuth to see that the Emergency Room diagnostic form has been altered. When Noreen leaves my office, I ask Lynne, my business manager, to phone the hospital while I dash outside for bus duty.

9:05 a.m.

It is a beautiful late autumn morning; 78 degrees under a cloudless sky. My sleepy students groggily emerge from their busses and float blissfully toward their waiting teachers. Ooops, scratch that. My bleary-eyed, grouchy children slump off the bus where they are abruptly awakened by a loose dog spotted on campus. Pandemonium breaks out. Students shout at the dog trying to either call it or terrorize it. Some try to run after it. Over 120 students gallivanting after one dog defines chaos. Counselor Rusty and the Deputy become involved. Several students contend they know the dog’s owner abuses it and they have seen the owner throw the dog over the fence onto our property when the dog is bad. They don’t want the dog returned. The teachers finally summon the strength to herd all the students into their lines. Rusty, my dog-loving counselor, goes after the dog using cheese as bait and a belt as a lasso and disappears from sight.

With students finally lined up behind their teachers, Daphne and Jordan’s classes are introduced to Sam. Darius shakes Sam’s hand, but he doesn’t look pleased. A new teacher is a change. Darius does not like change; not surprising from a child who has been in so many foster homes. After the introduction, Darius hurls rocks at another student and sprints away toward south campus.

I can’t take up the chase, because I have my hands full with two elementary students. Frankie, my sad-faced fourth grader with both parents in jail, got off the bus with his shirt untucked. I greet him with “good morning” but Frankie gives no smile or response. I ask him to please tuck in his shirt and Frankie tells me if he does he’ll throw up. I tell him to tuck in his shirt. He does. He throws up. Right there in the parking lot.

Meanwhile, Chip, our newest elementary student who lives with his grandparents in a retirement village, gets off the bus with a bloody face. Chip is a large, white, fifth grade boy who is usually morose and quick to anger. It seems he scratched his cheeks all the way to school. He says he did this because he is scared of our school.

Wild dog, rocks, vomit and bloody cheeks, all before 9:30 am.


9:30 a.m.

Lynne informs me that privacy laws forbid the hospital from sharing any information, but Lynne is able to get the hospital to confirm that Noreen was seen on Friday night, not Thursday night, the night of our ceremony. I confront Noreen. She insists she went to the hospital on Thursday and when I ask, she signs a release for the hospital to give me access to her records. I fax over the release as soon as she leaves my office and the records come back showing she was seen late Friday night and treated for a possible broken finger.

9:40 a.m.

There are painters scraping paint in the cafeteria when it’s time for the students to eat breakfast. I ask them to wait but they point out when our last group finishes breakfast we have only twenty minutes, at most, before we start serving lunch. They tell me they have orders to get this room scraped today. The students complain the scraping sound is giving them headaches. I worry about lead dust and paint chips in the food. Outside the cafeteria other workers are removing asbestos from the ceiling tiles. I suggest this is not a good thing to do when my students and staff are around. They shrug and tell me Agnes, the secretary from Haven High, told them it must be done today. Good ole Agnes. While trying to negotiate with the asbestos men, I remember I have a 10:00 meeting and dash off.

10:00 a.m.

I am meeting with Sonya and Vince, the custodians. There is a problem with toilet paper shortages. I try to make the meeting non-threatening but it gets ugly fast. Sonya is belligerent and instead of talking about toilet paper she makes personal attacks on the teachers she believes “snitched” about the lack of toilet paper.

Rusty interrupts the Vince and Sonya meeting to tell me he just caught the wild dog and he will now drive it to his house until the owner can be found and the abuse situation examined.

10:15 a.m.

Chloe is still crying. She cried when she got off the bus, cried through breakfast and was crying in Social Studies. Rosie is counseling Darius (he didn’t run far after the rock throwing incident) and Rusty is kidnapping a dog, so Chloe, the girl DCF promised wouldn’t have to live with her abusive mother but then placed her there anyway, is in my office, crying. Chloe tells me she is crying because her boyfriend, Seth, was arrested on the bus yesterday.

Yesterday afternoon, halfway through the bus route home, Seth, whose mother is in a wheelchair, inexplicably ran up the bus aisle and punched Glenn in the face. Glenn, the boy who forgot Boston is the capital of Massachusetts, is half Seth’s size: Why would Seth do this? I wonder if Seth picked up on the cues from staff that Glenn is not well liked and therefore an appropriate target. When Glenn’s mother saw his bloodied face she insisted the bus driver call the police. They arrested Seth directly from the bus. Chloe is crying because she thinks Seth now has enough arrest points to send him packing to a “program.” No one called Seth’s mother. The deputies at the Juvenile Assessment Center “forgot.” The bus driver didn’t think that was her job. Last night Seth’s mother phoned Chloe at 4 am to ask her if she knew where Seth was. Chloe’s mother (“I wish I’d had an abortion instead of having you”) decides if Seth’s mother thinks Seth could be with Chloe at 4:00 am then they must be sleeping together. They fight. Chloe has been crying ever since.

10:30 a.m.

The Boss calls telling me I must immediately call Virginia, the Ebencorp accountant, about some financial reports. Virginia frequently phones The Boss to tell him to tell me to call her. I wonder why Virginia doesn’t call me directly? I’ve given her my cell phone number. I ask The Boss if we can discuss the Noreen situation and possible outcomes. He says I should call HR, but not now. Right now, he says, I need to focus on the financial reports. I hang up and call Virginia. As usual she is behind in her paperwork and frantic. She shouts at me about some documents Lynne was supposed to send her. I know those documents were faxed over a week ago. Virginia then complains about not having her own fax machine and how other people take her stuff. I ask Lynne to fax them again.

I receive an email from The Boss. It tells me I am mandated to attend a week-long meeting at Ebencorp headquarters two weeks from now. This makes me most unhappy – not only do I worry about what will happen at school if I’m gone for a week, but I am having such a hard time working for The Boss. I don’t appreciate his approach whether he is sending me an email rather then talking to me, or when he makes demands rather than engaging in discussions. I was never in the military. I grew up in Concord, Massachusetts and learned to swim in Walden Pond; civil disobedience is in my blood. My adolescence was shaped by Vietnam and Watergate; I naturally question authority. I don’t do well with “orders that must be obeyed.” I especially question orders that will take me away from my campus for five days without telling me the value of that absence. Part of me says I should just shut up and go to Ebencorp to keep The Boss happy; I find it difficult to listen to that voice.

10:45 a.m.

Rosie asks if we can talk about Adoncia and Alexia/Pilar. Rosie believes these two street-tough Hispanic girls would benefit from an all-girl environment. I agree. Since I have been unable to start a single sex classroom here at Prospect, we discuss SBAA, the alternative school that contracts with the Herald County to educate forty girls. I have attended many principal meetings with the SBAA principal, I call her to try to get the ball started on moving Alexia/Pilar and Adoncia.

11:00 a.m.

Rusty is finally back from the canine capture. He says we need to talk about Aidan.

Aidan can’t stop. He can’t stop talking, or running or jumping off his desk or drumming his fingers or falling out of his chair. Aidan is a small thirteen year old white boy who looks more like a fourth grader than a seventh grader. He is good-natured and rarely curses. Aidan’s father makes too much money for Florida’s free child health care plan but not enough money to pay for doctor bills for his son’s hyperactivity. Aidan’s stepmother is not fond of Aidan. Actually that is not entirely accurate. She speaks of Aidan as one speaks of a palmetto bug. It’s not that she isn’t fond of him, she just doesn’t see the value in having him around. And so we learn not to share any frustrations about Aidan’s behavior with his stepmother. We suspect she abuses him but suspicion without proof makes it a waste to call DCF, since even when we have proof....

Without family support we are left on our own to help Aidan. Fortunately, Aidan has bonded with Rusty, so we try having Aidan stay in class for as long as the teacher can tolerate him and then having him spend time with Rusty. Aidan loves to help sweep, pick up trash, wash walls. The problem is, when Aidan is campus handyman, Aidan isn’t learning.

Today Rusty and I sit down and devise a unique schedule for Aidan. He won’t change classes with his peers every hour for math, language arts, social studies and science. We arrange to have him moving every 15 minutes or so, thus he will experience four different English classes, four math classes etc. This way no teacher will get too frustrated with Aidan and he will be able to run a bit between classes and maybe, despite all the fragmentation, he will learn. Rusty will roll out the new schedule in our morning meeting tomorrow.

11:30 a.m.

Noreen comes in my office saying she spoke with Billie, my PE teacher and wanna-be attorney. Billie has advised Noreen to rescind her signed release for hospital records. I tell her I have already received the documents. Noreen leaves my office. I contact Leighton, the HR guy at Ebencorp. I want to know if I have his support in firing Noreen. He tells me to ask The Boss. I call and reach his voice mail.

12:00 p.m.

Midge, my elementary teacher, comes in my office. She is overwhelmed and thinks she is a failure. I go in her classroom and teach a lesson on palindromes to demonstrate how to teach and maintain discipline simultaneously. Afterwards we talk; Midge is unable or unwilling to note what I do differently from what she does so I identify some differences: I keep moving around the classroom as I talk, never turning my back on the class. I vary the tone and volume of my voice and express boundless enthusiasm. I intercede to stop minor misbehaviors before they become major, such as when Kareem began to wave the periwinkle crayon at Trey as if it were a knife. When I point out these specifics, Midge becomes defensive saying she always does all those things.

After Midge leaves, although I feel frustrated that my attempt to role model good teacher techniques didn’t seem to work well with her, I feel invigorated from teaching the palindrome lesson. I love teaching and I’m excited when I can make time to demonstrate effective teaching methods. This role modeling also gives me credibility as I show teachers I am willing to go to the “front lines” and do what I ask of them. Several years ago, when I worked at a Verizon call center, I wanted to train my team by having them observe me handle some customer calls, but in the unionized environment, I wasn’t permitted to do so because then a manager would be doing union work. Then there was a strike and during the strike I had to take calls. When the union employees returned to work after the strike, I shared with them the printouts showing the number of calls I took per hour and per day. They were impressed and my rapport with my team increased as did the quality and quantity of their work.

I begin to think about lessons I’d like to do in other classrooms but my ruminations are interrupted by the phone.

1:00 p.m.

Caleb’s mother is crying on the phone again. They had a bad weekend. Caleb and his stepfather fought and they were still shouting before school this morning. His stepfather told Caleb “You’re setting yourself up to fail.” Caleb told his mother he won’t be coming home this afternoon or ever.

I promise Mom I’ll speak with Caleb. She cautions me about his dishonesty and confesses, “Caleb’s games with communication almost broke up our marriage last year.”

Who has ceded such power to Caleb?

I mention to Yvonne to keep an eye on Caleb today so he doesn’t run away from school. She tells me she spoke to him and he told her how much he hates his stepfather and how he plans to hide at dismissal and then sneak back into a portable and spend the night here.

I call Caleb to my office. He tells me how much he hates me, the school and his stepfather. He hates me for firing Ernie. Caleb explains he was here last year and when things didn’t work out in public school this year, he asked to come back because he remembered how good it was with Mr. Mel and Mr. Ernie, but I ruined everything. What does Caleb not hate? He wants to join the Sea Cadets; he wants a career in the navy. After a long talk Caleb still hates me but he doesn’t plan to sleep in a portable tonight, or so he says. We’ll have to watch him.

1:30 p.m.

Stone stops by to let me know Dirk’s mother came in this morning to say she is withdrawing Dirk and putting him back in public school. Dirk, the boy who is too lazy to stand and who hopes to achieve porn star status one day, is not ready to return to public school. Stone tells Dirk’s mother as much and suggests she come speak with me. She tells Stone she knows her rights and she has decided to withdraw him. Goodbye Dirk. I call Dirk’s public school principal, to give him a heads-up. Dirk’s principal thanks me for the call. He knows Dirk well; he predicts Dirk will be back at Prospect.

2:20 p.m.

With no sign of DCF, The Deputy decides to handle the “Lorayne and the older boyfriend” situation on his own. He calls Lorayne in to chat with him. He asks whether her boyfriend forces her to have sex or whether she wants to. She insists he does not force her. Bingo. The Deputy arranges to have this conversation repeated and video taped. Lorayne has never heard of statutory rape, but the Deputy has and when the police pick up the 44 year old “boyfriend” he hears about it too. Now DCF gets involved. Lorayne is moved to a foster home in another county. We won’t see her again for a while. Goodbye Lorayne.

3:30 p.m.

I finally hear back from The Boss. After much discussion he agrees to back my decision. After the students leave, I fire Noreen.

In truth, I have very mixed feelings about firing her. Noreen really is a terrific math teacher. Her students love her, her math projects are creative and she knows her subject. But she is dishonest. I have a better chance at teaching the uninitiated how to teach than teaching teachers how to behave ethically. Noreen doesn’t accept the firing well. She refuses to take her belongings saying first her car is too small, then that she has to pick up her children. I ask her what her plan will be for getting her possessions, and she tells me Neeley will take them to her. I let her know she may not come on campus while students are present. As she leaves I feel drained and defeated. I think I care more about Noreen losing her job than she does.

4:45 p.m.

Just when you think it is safe, a bus returns. Kelli brings her bus back to the school and refuses to take home five girls who won’t sit down. She doesn’t want to wait while they are counseled or disciplined. Luckily Rosie and Rusty are still on campus. We take turns scrambling to call parents and guardians to come pick up the girls. We get everyone picked up except Adoncia.

Adoncia, the girl from Brownsville, Texas who was living with an uncle and the uncle’s girlfriend, divulges she is now living with a family the girlfriend knows. We were unaware of this move. This new family has three young children and Adoncia is supposed to baby-sit them. The family lives in another county and has been driving Adoncia to her regular bus stop each morning. We can’t reach anyone who can or will come get Adoncia. I wait until the other drivers have finished their routes to find a driver willing to make overtime and drive Adoncia home to this family. We had been planning to try to get Adoncia into SBAA, the all-girls school, now I worry about what her new address means for that plan.

5:30 p.m.

Daphne comes into my office and sits down with a sigh and tells me she is depressed after making home visits to her students.

In the beginning of the school year, I encouraged all my teachers to visit the homes of their students. I’ve read this is the norm in China and felt it would help the teachers understand their students better and would help students see the home-school connection. Most of my teachers ignored me; a few told me outright how stupid it was. Only Daphne actually did it. She visited Seth (mother in wheel chair) and Timmy (bad football player). She became profoundly upset by what she saw and hasn’t been able to eat for days. Daphne is very thin and can’t survive too many days without eating. I tell her I’ve changed my mind: home visits are a bad idea and she should stop.

But she has been deeply affected by the poverty and living conditions of her students. I remind Daphne that while it’s true she can’t feed, clothe and house these children, she is giving them many equally important and lasting gifts: they feel secure in her presence and are learning so much in the rich intellectual atmosphere of her classroom. Before she leaves my office, she tells me she might quit.

I feel totally deflated and defeated. I wanted to be inspirational and to help Daphne, but I think I came across as brushing aside her concerns. I should have been a better listener instead of offering pat solutions and pop-psychology reassurances. Daphne is my best teacher but I’m not taking the time to support her. Sometimes when she comes in my office, I want to give her a pill to take away her worries and tell her to get back in the classroom and leave me alone. I know that a good boss listens and inspires. But I feel worn out; worn out from Daphne specifically who seems to require so much hand holding and reassurance, but really it isn’t fair to put all the blame on her, I am just worn out in general.

6:00 p.m.

My cell phone rings. It is The Boss. He has decided we won’t pay health benefits to the bus drivers after 90 days as we agreed. (He wants the drivers to wait two years for benefits.) He has decided he doesn’t like the point cards we are using for tracking student behavior and wants them changed. He says this is my school and I should work with my staff to develop tools and procedures that work. He tells me to remember that he is The Boss and I need to adhere to his dictates. As always, when I’m talking with The Boss, I feel a little like I’m standing unprotected in an open field getting shot at from all directions.

8:30 p.m.

When I walk in my apartment, my phone is flashing with a message. It is from Daphne, she says only: “Please call.” I return her call with some trepidation. (She wouldn’t quit over the phone, would she?) Daphne sounds relaxed and upbeat. She phoned because she and her husband want to invite me and my husband to have lunch together at her house this Saturday. Since Daphne is a stricter vegetarian than I am, I don’t have to worry about burgers or chicken at this outing. I also figure she won’t quit over lunch and dare I hope maybe she has decided to stay. I write the lunch date on my calendar and look forward to our get together. Hope springs eternal.