3. Nathan
three
It isfive-forty-two by the time I actually sit at my desk chair. The almost brand-new cushion absorbs my body, and I sink even further into the plush leather as I sigh, expelling everything from the first day of school and letting it sink to the floor.
All in all, it was your typical first day of school. Kids were excited to see friends, happy not to have homework on the first day, and generally in good spirits. There were a handful of behaviors, but mostly, I helped with clerical work and crowd control. Kids whose schedules were inaccurate. The handful of students who showed up on the first day without being registered, throwing entire class loads for a loop. There were a few stray behaviors that I addressed with my strong, firm hand, reminding students that nonsense will not be tolerated.
It was a decent first day. No blood, minimal tears, and my mind was pulled away from the nightmare that the day began with. I take a moment to close my eyes for a deep, centering breath, and then get back to work. There were two students I didn’t get the chance to speak with today, despite the fact that I anticipated seeing them both. Liam Spencer and Rocco Thatcher. Both seventh graders. Both notorious for starting trouble—though, Rocco serves more as a ring leader while Liam follows—which I learned during my shadowing year last year when they were sixth graders. I caught them playing football in the hall this morning.
Of my seven long-term substitutes, I only failed to check in on Claire Benson. Then again, I got enough of her before the sun rose this morning. I purposely put her to the bottom of my list, and didn’t end up checking in by the time most of the teachers were gone for the day.
I pinch my eyes closed again, picturing the football in her hand as she’d so carelessly tossed it right back into the hands of the boy who was bound to throw it again. I have money on that ball being confiscated, awaiting parent pick-up on my desk, by tomorrow at the final bell.
Between maternity and paternity leaves, and several staff out on medical leave, we are stretched thin. Several more teachers and staff will be out throughout the year. But between all of them, we’ll have Claire effectively through the end of January since she’s covering three vacancies back-to-back.
Right now, I have more pressing issues than Claire Benson, like the math teacher currently knocking at my door.
“Mr. Petersen. Come in.”
Joe Petersen has been at River Valley since before the middle school was even in this current building—he probably dates back to the conception of the school itself. He has claimed retirement three times now, from what I’ve heard, and then gone back on his word because he, “Will be too bored,” and, “doesn’t golf.”
Joe slowly ambles to one of two leather chairs situated in front of my desk and takes his time sitting down.
“Did you have a good first day?”
He waves his hand in the space in front of him.
“I’ve had a thousand first days, Nate. They’re all the same. I’ll cut the bullshit and tell you why I’m here.”
He takes his square, wire-rimmed glasses from his face and begins to clean them with a lens cloth that he produces from his front shirt pocket as he speaks.
“I’m not doing this new curriculum.”
At least he’s honest and to the point.
“I’ve taught math the same way for forty-two years. Percent of change is the amount of change over the original amount. The absolute value of a number is its distance from zero. I’m not adopting any of this common core crap. Just thought I’d let you know before you came to observe me.”
He crosses his arms, letting them rest on his pot belly, as he teases me with a smug grin. I know exactly what he’s doing. This is less about math, and more entirely about power. Something tells me that he had this conversation with Don, the principal, a long time ago when the curriculum first changed, and he was given free rein to teach however he wanted. I get my confirmation when my silence is too long and he cuts back in.
“Donny was fine with it. I’m just making sure we’re all on the same page. Team effort and all that bullshit, right? You young blood just need to remember who’s been here longer, that’s all.”
I sit stoically, speechless.
As a thirty-five year old coming into a position of power, this is exactly what I was afraid of. Half of the staff is older than I am. A good chunk are around my age. It’s only the first day, and already I’m battling with my worst fear: being in charge of my elders. Being in charge of adults was never on my bingo card. I never wanted to leave the classroom in the first place. But I can’t change the position I’m currently in.
The chagrin on his face is what eats at me. He knows that, right now, I’m not practiced enough to talk back. To remind him that, despite his tenure in the district, curriculum is part of my jurisdiction as assistant principal. Tension thrums in the vein in my forehead, and I know that’s only adding icing to the cake that Joe is simply devouring.
“Sure,” I nod. “I understand your frustration with the new curriculum. However, Joe, this is what the district purchased. It aligns with where they go next in math, so it would be in your best interest to familiarize yourself with it this year.”
I’m proud of that statement right up until Joe guffaws in my face.
“Well, anyway.”
He slaps both thighs and groans as he lifts himself from the chair.
“Good to see ya settling in. Hope the kids don’t give you too much trouble this week.”
With that, he saunters out of my office.
As soon as he’s gone, I let out a frustrated sigh, cradling my forehead in my hand as I rest my elbow on the desktop before me.
Day one, and the seniors in this building already see me as a joke.
It’s not that I can’t stand up for myself. It’s that I was caught off-guard—and also that the majority of the senior teachers in this building are all friends with Don. A conversation with him is futile. I thought I’d have more than a day to get my ducks in a row when it came to this matter, but here it is, staring me in the face.
As the assistant principal, the students aren’t even going to be my greatest challenge this year.