my husband.”
“Can’t you sign the consent form? He needs to serve this detention.”
“I’m not going to speak to you about this. You’ll have to talk to my husband.” She walked away.
What?! What’s with that? She acts like I did something wrong. Why can’t she address this issue? This is pretty “cut and dry.” It’s not like this is something disputable. The kid came to English class repeatedly without something to write with. It’s the policy of this school to receive a detention for that. I was even nice about it, and let him get away with it for days. Why won’t she answer me?
I never found out what the story was, but later I assumed it was yet another parent who didn’t approve of my teaching in the school and was giving me a hard time. When I sought the advice of other middle school teachers, they told me to “let it go.” Did they know something they weren’t telling me?
After a number of students had gathered in the room on this first day, I peeked in to find average eleven and twelve-year-olds greeting each other after time away and chatting about summer vacations. I forgot most of them were familiar with each other after attending school here since kindergarten. This wasn’t usually the case in public school. Some of them were so tall, they could have been eighth graders. And some of them looked like they still belonged in elementary school.
Oh, they gave me some babies, I thought. I’ll take good care of them.
After the frenzy in the hallway died down, and it appeared that all my students were present, I entered my classroom and shut the door. I was about to address my homeroom class when the loud speaker crackled and a voice announcing the start of school broadcast into the room. Nobody seemed to notice my slight jolt, and I shut my mouth. I was so eager to start that I had forgotten about the morning announcements!
I froze in place and listened with the students. After a few words, everyone stood for the Pledge of Allegiance. I placed my hand over my heart and recited the words along with the students. I was checking around the room to ensure that everyone was reciting it and scoping out any troublemakers that weren’t. So far I had a group of good American citizens.
Next, the recitation of the Lord’s Prayer began. The children automatically bowed their heads.
Why hadn’t I foreseen this? I thought. Hadn’t I learned my lesson yet? Didn’t I think there would be prayers?
The Virgin Mary already had her head bowed not far from the loudspeaker. In order to be respectful, I bowed my head also, but I did not utter the words. I raised my head once to check that all the students were reciting the prayer. It appeared that these students were very respectful or very well-trained. After the Lord’s Prayer everyone seated themselves automatically with military precision. There was no need for any direction from me.
So glad I don’t need to say anything!
Finally, I walked to the front of the room and introduced myself, welcomed the kids, and took attendance. I tried right away to learn the names of the twenty-five students in my homeroom class. We were discussing their class schedules, and I was trying to ensure that everyone was familiar with where they were going when the bell rang. Some of the students stayed with me for English Language Arts while others moved directly across the hall to Mrs. A. I was glad that I had some of her students in my homeroom so that I could get to know other sixth graders.
After the brief shuffle, I looked around at the different faces. I had directed the “new” students to also sit anywhere until I moved them to assigned seats which I did speedily after I introduced myself again.
I took a deep breath, as this seemed like a very ordinary first day of school. I suppose I hadn’t known what to expect after receiving my “love note.” No hands flew up accusing me of being a Jew and asking why I was in the school. So far so good!
I distributed copies of “Ms. B’s Classroom Rules, Regulations and Policies” and went over each item, trying to sound like a cross between a drill sergeant and a nun. It’s always important for a teacher to lay the ground work right away so students know your expectations, what you consider proper conduct and what your procedures are for managing your classroom. In other words, this is to stop bad behavior before it starts. They can’t use the excuse that they didn’t know. If anyone considers misbehaving this early on, this will give them pause, at least temporarily. Even on the first day of school, it is usually easy to identify the more challenging students, especially if they call any of the rules into question.
With my rules, regulations and policies, I tried to be concise and specific. I was conveying to my students that I expected appropriate and orderly behavior and for students to come to class prepared and organized. But I also expected them to enjoy themselves, learn a lot and even have fun, which I made sure to tell them.
Then I had my administrative duties to perform with forms to complete, textbooks to assign, and dress code and fire procedures to review.
Time flew, and before I knew it, they were out the door, and my seventh graders sat before me. I felt confident and happy. One class down and two more to go. I liked the kids. I think that in all my teaching days there was never a kid I disliked no matter how he or she behaved, as I got to know each and every one of them quite well.
It was the same procedure with my seventh grade class. It isn’t difficult to tell the difference between sixth and seventh graders. Sixth graders appear less mature and developed. A lot of physical growth happens over the summer so that seventh graders are usually taller. They gain more confidence and have a more developed sense of humor (sometimes to the point of being mouthy).
Seventh graders ask all sorts of questions. I had to tell them to wait until I was finished reading through the rules before I would take questions. They asked good questions, mostly about tests and quizzes and my grading policy which was not specifically mentioned on the handout.
Once they left, I could finally go to the rest room. During my teaching experience, I became an expert at holding my bladder for long periods of time. While some people might brag about awards or commendations, I boasted about how many hours I could go without a bathroom break.
I was glad it was lunchtime. I was starving! I barely had anything to eat before school started. I didn’t want to go to lunch alone, so I walked across the hall to ask Mrs. A if she was going. I found her sitting at her desk with an unwrapped sandwich placed neatly in front of her. She was chewing a bite when I walked in.
“Are you going to lunch?” I asked her anyway.
“I meat in my massroom,” she said with a mouthful. She didn’t even swallow before she answered me.
I guess I won’t be eating lunch with her this year. I don’t know anybody else I’d want to eat with. What am I going to do?
I had packed my lunch since I was unsure where the cafeteria was, what food was available, and if there was enough time to buy lunch.
So I begrudgingly walked back up the steps, down the long corridor, and into the faculty room on the corner. I stopped and took a look around. It was a cramped little room with round tables. There were a handful of teachers in the room, but none of the middle school teachers. Nobody invited me to sit at their table. I took a deep breath and sat by myself. I could hear the chatter of the other teachers but their talk was about the younger students. Except for the foreign language teacher who asked how my first day was going, nobody spoke to me. I was a little puzzled, as I thought more people would have asked or at least said hello.
I went
