It's a known fact that the first day of school is nerve-racking, but few people know that it's the same for the teachers. Not only was today the first day of school, but it also happened to be my first day at William Howard Taft School for Troubled Youth. A crisp breeze cut through the warm air and put an unusual spring in my step. My footsteps crunched the occasional brown leaf, but the trees still shook luscious, green leaves in the wind. I found myself at the end of the walkway and hoped one last time that the still warm weather signaled an auspicious beginning. I took a deep breath and pulled against the cold metal and entered the building.
Schools back home were much more pleasing to the eye. American schools are much boxier and the halls don't seem very inviting. I didn't find the people to be very inviting either, but I expected that, it was about the same at home. I walked into the front office to thank the principal one last time for the position and tried to ignore the gawking employees. A receptionist's talking faded as her jaw dropped and her slack-jawed face followed my body. I looked away and looked back at her. She blushed and returned to her phone call, brushing a limp, mouse brown strand of hair out of her eyes. I made to go past the front desk to Mrs. Alvarez's office when another receptionist stopped me.
"Excuse me, can I help you?" Her sharp blue eyes stabbed at me from underneath sagging layers of papery skin. She was clearly a lifelong smoker, as her gravelly voice snapped at me. "Can I help you, sir?"
"Oh, no, I'm sorry." I tried forcing my tongue forward in my mouth to imitate the American speech patterns, I didn't want to give them one more thing to gossip about at lunch. My mouth felt awkward and thick. "I just wanted to thank Principal Alvarez one more time before heading up to my new classroom."
"You're the new chemistry teacher?" Her mouth formed an iron line and her eyebrows pushed her wrinkly skin upwards into horizontal gullies. The skin beneath her neck wobbled a bit when she swallowed.
"Oui, I mean, yes, I am." I felt a heat rising up from my neck, and imagined how they must see me, awkward and naive about American customs. I chewed the inside of my cheek and flicked my thumb against my briefcase as the woman looked through some papers.
"Mrs. Alvarez isn't available right now, she had to see to an incident in one of the upstairs bathrooms. And your classroom has been changed, you're going to be in the room closest to the parking lot. You've already heard everything else during orientation." As soon as she finished barking at me, her head and body turned towards the Dell on her desk, her crooked fingers moving with surprising agility. Noticing that I was still standing there, she shouted over her shoulder, "Janine, stop talking to your sister and show Mr. Lavoie his new classroom."
Janine, the mouse haired woman who had stared at me on my way in, slammed the phone down and jumped up. "Of course, Beth." She gave me a nervous smile and then quickly darted her eyes away.
"So you taught in France before coming here?" Her fingers tapped rhythmically at her side.
"I taught there for a few years, but this isn't my first American school." Her flats clicked against the linoleum three times as fast as my steps, as she tried to keep up.
"Why did you leave the other schools?" She ended each question with a slight hum, that others might not have noticed. She made sure to turn her head away from me as we turned the next corner. I saw an SUV through the double doors at the end of the hallway.
"They disagreed with my teaching methods. I have a rather individual approach. I'm highly qualified in my field, however." We were nearing the end of the hallway. Janine abruptly stopped and turned towards room 142. She jerked her head around and looked at me then looked away. She took a deep breath and looked into my eyes. Her nose pointed straight at me, yet her chin seemed to shy away. She sucked in a quick breath and licked her lips. Her eyelashes fluttered and her fingertips tapped against her thighs double time.
"I just want to make sure this is what you want. The kids here are rather rowdy and uncontrollable. I don't want them to bother you because of your, um, unusual condition." A breath hissed out of her. She had been speaking so rapidly, she didn't have time to breathe.
"What condition do you mean? I'm in perfect physical condition." This subject always came up. Sometimes people never said anything, but I could feel the stares at my back and people always hushed their close whispering when I walked into the staff room. I had found so many cartoons in students' notebooks, mocking me, teasing me. At this point I was almost immune, but I always hoped that the next school would be different. However, most students were pretty similar, and all but a few sympathetic souls had given in to the innate cruelty teenagers seem to have. I could feel today's earlier optimism fading, as I realized that there could be no escape. I had always been drawn to teaching, but it all seemed so pointless now. I put a smile on my face, however, and waited for Janine's response. Her fingers had stopped tapping and now she picked at a hangnail on her thumb. She had looked away again and her pale cheeks were flushed with bright, splotchy pink marks.
"I- I just meant, you know, I mean, I, um..." Her fingers stopped and balled into little fists. "Never mind. Forget I said anything, I'm sorry." She turned the key in the lock and let us into the room. I followed, my glare piercing through the back of her head. She walked over to the desk next to the white board and gestured toward a sheet of paper. "This is your supply list, and it says where everything is. You share a supply closet with Ms. Whitaker. The containers and stuff are in that cabinet by the window, and the safety goggles are in the big white box right next to it. You're probably familiar with everything, anyway, but if you have any questions you can call the office or your supervisor." She inhaled and looked at her thumbs, no longer having anything to point to. "All the course material is online, including your attendance sheets and textbook. You can use the computer here to store your lesson plans and materials, and there's extra books in the back of the room. We can get you another chair, if you want." She started to inch around me to get towards the door.
"One last thing, Janine." She spun around, eyes still glued to the ground. "Where's the copy room?"
"It's right next to the main office." With that she left, her head bobbing up and down and her fingers drumming away.
I eased myself down into the chair. My legs extended far past the end of the desk and my knees stuck up in the air. My arms easily reached the floor, but I folded my hands behind my head, my elbows extending a couple feet in each direction. I had a feeling that this year would go about as well as the rest, and wasn't sure I would make it all the way through. I shut my eyes for a few seconds as I took some deep breaths. I had always wanted to teach and felt it was my calling. I thought that my personality would make up for my odd appearance and was sure I could win the kids over. However, I had become shy and withdrawn and eventually became very bitter. The only way I could keep the kids attention was with a lot of hands on work, which a lot of schools didn't always appreciate. I felt betrayed. The one thing I had always yearned to do was forever out of my reach. This year had to be different though, I was determined. I was pretty sure this would be my last year, there's only so much one man can take. I decided then and there that I would go out with a bang, and that chemistry teachers everywhere would know my name. Didier Lavoie would become a household name, and finally, I would be appreciated for doing what I loved. Finally, my students would give up their snickering and whispers and show me the respect I deserved. My optimism came back as I came up with a plan.
