September 7, 2008
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Well the first days are the hardest days don’t you worry anymore; cuz
when life looks like Easy Street there is danger at your door.—Robert Hunter
1 Ah, ain’t it the truth.
2 By last Fridee, I had made it.
3 I mean, completely made it.
4 At the end of my AmLIt class, I had those guys writing, discussing and chilling, leaving the grand light from the sky to light the room, the air-conditioning keeping it cool, and I even piped in some Ella Fitzgerald, giving the room a more Starbucks/ jazzy feel. The students responded by writing and enjoying it for what it was.
5 I enjoyed my hour-and-a half lunch and when my last group came in, they stood amazed as I used Kurt Vonnegut to teach them how to write. I told about his travails in Dresden in 1945, when he survived the bombing that created a hurricane of fire, killing over 100,000 people, more than HIroshima.
6 I talked about his creation of the Bily Pilgrim character who became unstuck in time.
7 I talked of how Vonnegut’s masterpiece, Slaughterhouse Five was banned by many schools, and about how Vonnegut heard of one librarian who insisted on chucking the book into the school’s furnace because it had offended her so much.
8 By the end of the day, the students departed, and I stood in the new Fortress of Solitude, which is the only thing you could my cavernous classroom overlooking the fields, and all points south.
9 I sat listening to Ella, and almost knew what it felt to be literally at the top of your game in private industry. New job, top floor room overlooking everything, brand new building and a wonderfully productive day.
10 And a Friday, to boot. Jazz swirled through the room. Earlier in the day, a student came in and said, “Your room smells so clean Mr. H!”
11 No ant spray. In fact, the air-conditioning unit was so antique back at YB that students used to come in my room and say, “Your room stinks, H!”
12 Look, you don’t want the deal of your room smelling like something died in it or anything traveling around campus, trust me.
13 So knowing that my new room is fresh, new and lively worked magic. It smelled fresh as a daisy.
14 I felt fresh as a daisy. I slipped my hands into my pockets and looked out the floor-to-ceiling window. I felt like Gatsby. Or someone who owns airplanes and has homes in the Bahamas.
15 I kept smiling, listening to the jazz, and enjoying the organization and cleanliness, as well as the brightness of teaching, and loving every minute of it.
16 What could POSSIBLY go wrong?
17
18 I remembered that our union, ESTA had wanted us to hand out flyers in the parking lot. Budget cuts, that sort of thing. I knew that on a hot day a lot of teachers would conveniently forget to do that, so I headed down to the parking lot to help out.
19 I was collared by the ASB secretary just as I approached Cougar Hall, the ASB hothouse up at the Chill. She spoke:
20 “Mr. Harrington? Um…could you come inside for just a second?”
21 Uh-oh.
22 I walked into the place. It smelled like ant-spray.
23 Raid. Everywhere. The contrast was immediate.
24 The girl walked me into the school bank.
25 Our awesome bank clerk, Margaret sat there with a sly smile. There was silence, and then she spoke.
26 “She quit today.”
27 I didn’t say a word. It was obvious whom she meant. I stood silently, astonished at the news.
28 “She couldn’t deal with the job. She walked into the office, told the Principal, walked out and hasn’t been seen since. All her stuff is gone.”
29 The Activities Director who had replaced me just walked in right before lunch, resigned, and walked away from the job. Just like that. Gone.
30 “How’s Cari?” I asked. Cari is our principal, very organized, intelligent and by-the-book. I couldn’t even imagine how she must have felt.
31 “She’s actually dealing with it.”
32 Of course.
33 There’s a lot I just can’t say here, but that is the gist of what went down on Friday. Naturally the questions poured out. Who’s going to do Activities? How will this play out? The guy who had the job right before me came in, and he’s the drama guy as well. His name is Jessie, and he’s a great guy. We both had done the job and both knew it’s a bear, but this was off the charts.
34 At this point, nobody knows anything. There was a football game that night, but I had somewhere I needed to be.
35 Anywhere but there.
36 We talked on for the better part of the afternoon, and finally all separated. I walked back up to the Fortress, this time without the jazz music or the lights. Again I slid my hands into my pockets, walked over to the window and looked out.
37 The Frosh-Soph game had started. There were teachers helping, so it looked like things were going okay. There was utterly no shade, so everyone was huddled in the shadow of the announcer’s booth. Those walking about looked like ants to me. For a brief second, I wanted to go down there and make everything right. But after a second look, I stopped. I let the peace of the room and it’s tremendously inviting solitude surround me.
38 That world down there was operating without me and I liked it. I felt a bit guilty for not going out there and lending a hand, but I was afraid I would be pulled right through that window and into the madness once again. This time I just said no.
39 It was perhaps the hardest thing I’d ever done, because I usually would fly in and become heroic, or at least do everything I could to help out.
40 But for once I liked where I was. I enjoyed my new place. I could look out but to those down below, I was no more than a building in the distance, glistening from the highest spot on the hill.
41 And I wasn’t about to go back.
42 Not this time. Not anytime soon.
44 More to come.
45 Peace.
~H~
