AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hello everyone! Sorry I haven't been posting much since A new diagnosis, I just got over serious writers' block. On the positive, you guys have this to look forward to! In fact, not only do I have a new story, but I'll be very likely updating frequently because I just started summer vacation, and I have a job starting on June 7, and I will be working three days a week from Nine in the morning until one in the afternoon. I'm going to start my senior year of high school in the fall- oh my god I'm terrified because I'm growing up way too fast! But I'm excited, too, it's my senior year. OK, I don't want to bore you to death and ramble on and on and on- here's the story!
ALLY:
My name is Ally Dawson. I'm twenty-five and I've lived in Miami for pretty much my whole life. For a living, I teach english to seventh and eighth graders at Kinloch Park Middle School (My mom is a professor in Nature Studies at University of Miami, and I saw my inspiration through her to be a teacher. I was a straight A student from Kindergarten to College, and I had a passion for english), and I've been doing that for three years. I love my job, and my students, no matter how rude, disrespectful and let's face it, disruptive, they can be at times, but that doesn't mean it doesn't stress me out at times. I have kids who talk, curse, sleep, text, chew gum in class (It really drives me up the wall when people are chewing gum and you can see it or when they blow bubbles- that drives me CRACKERS), homework, paper and tests to grade, and the salary is so awful that I have a second job at Starbucks coffee four days a week.
I don't have a boyfriend and I haven't since I was twenty-one. I guess I just kind of lost faith in my love life. I had a boyfriend named Kevin Harvard for three years. But I broke up with him after he cheated on me by having sex with another woman and he also got drunk a lot and he was arrested for drunk driving. I'm not in the best financial state right now- to start I'm a teacher, I have a terrible salary.
Today, we were going over Oliver Twist, one of my favorite books when I was in high school. I was having my students read at least thirty minutes every night, and we had just finished the book, which made me want to assign a paper on it. I wrote on the whiteboard (I didn't use a chalkboard. I had an allergy to dust and for some reason chalk on a chalkboard really made me uncomfortable), that the paper had to have a ten to twelve six font, had to be double spaced, and had to have a minimum of two hundred words. I said,
"Now, the paper that I want you to write, has to be on Oliver Twist. It's due next week- on the twenty-second of September. It has to be ten to twelve size font, double spaced and it must have at least two hundred words. Most importantly, no plagiarism! If you plagiarize, that's an automatic F. Any questions?"
One of my students who I felt I had an antagonistic relationship with, his name was Danny Fonda, raised his hand. I was almost dreading calling on him since he had the most behavioral problems in my class. He cursed in class, texted in class and sometimes even cheated on tests, which explained why he was failing my class. Oh well, at least he raised his hand. A lot of my students yelled out their comments instead of raised their hands.
"Yes, Danny?"
He started smirking and then started giggling.
"What the fuck is this plagiarizing shit that's coming out of your big ass mouth?"
Most of the class started laughing. I wasn't surprised by it, but I still didn't like it. I told him,
"Mr. Fonda, how many times have I told you not to use that kind of language in class? It's rude and disrespectful and I won't put up with it."
The classroom consequences were:
A verbal reminder.
A verbal warning.
Principal's office.
Call parents.
Parent-teacher conference.
If you got three conferences in one week, it meant suspension for two weeks. If you got three suspensions in a semester, you got expelled. Brendan Carroll, Danny's partner in crime as I liked to call him, because they were best friends and the ones most notorious for causing mayhem in my class, asked,
"What's plagiarism?"
I said,
"Why don't you tell me?"
Sometimes I felt that being a smartass to people who were being a smartass to you was the best way to bounce back.
"It's stealing peoples' words from the internet and claiming they're your own. It's a crime in school where not only do you get an F, but in some cases, suspension is warranted."
A girl who I got along with, named Leah Levinson, was fumbling with her thick framed glasses said,
"I don't wanna get suspended or get an F. I wanna go to high school next year!"
I smiled.
"I'm sure you won't, Leah. Just follow these guidelines, turn it in on time, don't plagiarize, and do the best you can, and you'll be fine. I know you can write a great paper."
"Thanks, Ms. Dawson."
I said,
"You're welcome. I know all of you can write a great paper."
I handed out twenty-six sheets of paper with the assignment on it, one for each of my students. The bell rang. Work was over for me and class was over for my students. I packed up my laptop and my containers and utensils from my lunch, and got in my car and drove to my apartment. I was glad because I had no work at Starbucks today, and I had had a long day.
Telling kids to stop talking in class, telling them to put their phones away, and I had to shout at my third period who were throwing spit balls and throwing paper airplanes. I hated it when I had to shout at my class, but it did get annoying when you had students who you had to tell three, four or five times to stop misbehaving and I didn't want to have to go to that length. I was getting a call on my phone from the South Miami hospital. My phone was a gold iPhone 6S with a case that was coral on the top and gold on the bottom.
"Hello?"
"Hello, is this Allison Dawson?"
"Yes, this is she."
"Hello, Allison, this is Dr. Gelman."
Dr. Gelman was my dad's primary doctor. I wondered why he was calling me.
"Hi, Dr. Gelman, what's going on?"
"Your father has recently suffered a heart attack. Your stepmother brought him here."
I was so scared.
"Is he OK?"
"We're working on him. You are free to visit him, he's in ICU."
Great. As if my day wasn't long enough, now my dad had had a heart attack? I said,
"Thanks, Doctor. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
I got into the hospital and checked in, going up in the elevator.
First chapter so far! Don't be afraid to review, I love reviews! And the same goes for following and favoriting! Love you guys, and I hope you're all having an awesome memorial day weekend/summer! Peace, love, hugs and kisses :)
