Twilight is the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.
Because I am thankful for everyone reading my little story, I am posting early as a Thanksgiving gift for all of you! Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate it, happy Thursday to all who don't!
Thanks to Klooqy and BelleDuJour from Project Team Beta for their help with this chapter.
~*~ pc ~*~
Character Displacement - A phenomenon in which species that live together in the same environment tend to diverge in those characteristics that overlap; exemplified by Darwin's finches.
When I entered my classroom on Wednesday morning I was greeted once again by the sight of Edward Masen sitting at my desk. This time, however, he vacated my chair as soon as I entered the room.
"Miss Swan," he said, moving out from behind the desk and standing awkwardly beside it.
"Mr. Masen," I replied, nodding coolly at him as I passed.
"Dr. Masen," he immediately corrected. I bit my tongue, literally, until I thought I tasted blood. It wasn't worth the fight this early in the morning.
"To what do I owe this ... pleasure?" I asked.
"I've been considering the plans we devised for this week," he said, "and I have concluded that it would not be value-added for me to rotate through other teacher's classes. If I am to be required to observe, I believe it would be best if I simply stayed with you for the rest of the week until I take over my own class."
Well, crap. This wasn't going to work. I was usually fine with being observed; I was good at what I did, and I normally just treated any guest like a normal member of the class. He was different. The previous day had been a disaster, thanks in large part to Edward. He was unnerving. He did nothing but sit in the back and watch. No note taking, no asking questions, no volunteering to help out when the kids had questions; just watching.
It was a little creepy.
Not only did he watch, but I also had the distinct feeling that while he was watching he was also judging. After all of his comments on the 'over-simplification of concepts' and his 'superior intelligence and education,' there was no doubt in my mind that he thought I, and probably all teachers, were drooling morons. More than once I wondered why exactly he had degraded himself to join our ranks.
The problem with having Doctor Judgy in the room was that my ineptitude increased in direct correlation to my nervousness. Having him there functioned as a self-fulfilling prophecy; he expected me to be a bumbling idiot, therefore I became one. I dropped items, I misplaced things, I forgot words, and I lost the ability to explain even simple concepts. In my entire education and ten years of teaching, I'd never broken a piece of equipment - yesterday I shattered two slides and broke the spout off a beaker. I mixed up the functions of xylem and phloem. A student had to remind me about the phases of mitosis, because I completely forgot them.
It was a very bad day, and no way was I having another one like it today because of him and his creepy staring.
"Doctor Masen," I said as calmly as I could, "Carlisle and I both think it would be of benefit for you to see as many different people as possible while you have the time this week, particularly given that you have no teaching experience and no training in education."
"I disagree," he said simply.
Of course he did.
"Why do you disagree, Doctor Masen?"
"I have concluded that it will be more beneficial for me to work with one person over the course of several days in order to gain a more detailed understanding of their tools and techniques rather than spread my focus over many people. Since you and I will share curriculum, and since I have already invested one day in studying you, it is only logical that I continue to do so."
He actually had a decent point, but for the sake of my mental health and the equipment repair-and-replacement budget, I had to talk him out of it. I was starting to sweat at the mere thought of spending another day with him in my class, never mind three more.
"Doctor Masen, while I understand your concerns, it is important for you to gain a broad view of teaching and classroom management techniques. Every teacher approaches their class and their subject differently, and every teacher develops his or her own style over time. It is vital that you discover something that will work for you. By spending time with several different people you can hopefully pick up a lot of different approaches." I looked at him, praying he was buying my arguments.
It didn't look like he was. In fact, he continued as if I hadn't even spoken. "Secondly, I've been looking over the schedule you devised, Ms. Swan, and I see that you have planned for me to observe not only other science classes, but math, English, history, and even a physical education class. Surely it is a waste of my time to sit in those other classes," he scoffed, waving his hand dismissively, as if math, English, history, and PE didn't matter.
"Once again, Doctor Masen," I replied, forcing the last two words through my clenched teeth, "the purpose of this week is not for you to learn the subject matter. You have a Ph.D. Obviously you already know a lot about biology. The point is for you to learn how to teach."
"If my observations yesterday are any indication, Ms. Swan," he said with a smirk, "that particular activity is not one that requires any significant level of skill."
Professional,professional,professional,I reminded myself fiercely.
"Well, perhaps watching some other teachers will relieve you of that particular misconception. Regardless, this is the course that Carlisle wishes you to follow." I glanced at the clock. "Come on, I'll show you to the classes you'll be observing today." I started to leave the room, then turned to face him again. "And, Doctor Masen, you may want to consider jotting down some notes about what you see today."
~*~ pc ~*~
My classroom had scarcely cleared for lunch when Alice appeared in the doorway, her face twisted. She just barely made it in the door before the tears started.
"Alice? What's wrong?" I circled my desk and tried to hug her, but she pushed me away and handed me the sheet of paper she clutched in her hand. I took it from her but before I could read it, she began to wail. Sweet, cheerful Alice was clearly distraught, and whatever was on that paper could wait until she had calmed down.
I quickly crossed the room and closed the door, then led Alice to my chair - it really was the only comfortable one in the room - and handed her a Kleenex.
"Alice, do you want to talk about it? Should I call Jasper? I squatted in front of her so I could look into her face, and reached around to stroke her hair. "Shhh, Alice, calm down. Breathe, okay?"
A few more sobs escaped her before she managed to take a couple of deep breaths. She hiccupped and started to choke out words.
"He- he said- I thought- I know I'm new, but- the kids- everybody passed and- I dropped the beaker- never thought- good teacher- loved this job-"
Oh, damn. Was that a termination notice? It was unheard of for a teacher to be terminated mid-year, unless she did something truly terrible, and if that were the case I would have heard about it. It was way too early for anyone to be getting notices about contract renewal, and besides, Carlisle had just mentioned to me the previous week how pleased he was with Alice's performance thus far.
"Alice? Alice, sweetie, you need to slow down and tell me what's wrong. You're starting to scare me." When she continued to cry inconsolably, I stood up and pulled my phone out of my purse, but she stopped me before I could dial Jasper's number.
"Wait, don't-" she gasped a few times, and I could see her making an effort to calm herself. She pulled another tissue from the box on my desk and wiped her face, then blew her nose. She took a shuddery breath and spoke the first complete sentence she'd managed since walking into the room.
"Don't call him. I know how he'll react, and it won't be helpful right now." She stood on shaky legs and crossed to the sink, where she wet a paper towel and held it to her face. "I'm fine, really." She choked out another sob, then laughed. "Okay, I'm not fine, but you still shouldn't call him." She leaned against the counter and continued pressing the wet paper towel to her face. "Do you have anything other than this? I think these paper towels still have wood chips in them."
I nodded and indicated a drawer next to where she leaned. She opened it to find a stack of dishcloths, and held one up.
"Is it safe?" she asked.
"Yeah, they're clean," I replied. "We don't use the same kinds of chemicals you do, anyway."
She wet the cloth and held it over her eyes, taking deep, measured breaths the whole time.
"Alice, I don't want you to start crying again, but if you can, please tell me what's wrong. I've never seen you like this."
"That's not surprising. I think the only time I've ever even been this upset was the time Jasper broke up with me our senior year." She chuckled. "Have I ever told you about that? The breakup lasted an entire two and a half days."
"Focus, please, Alice."
"Right. Have you read the paper?" She indicated the sheet she'd given me earlier. I'd discarded it, and it was on the floor.
"No, I honestly forgot about it."
"Read it."
I picked up the sheet and skimmed it, not entirely sure what could have elicited this kind of reaction.
It was written in cramped, almost illegible handwriting, and almost every square centimeter was covered. From what I could make out, it appeared to be a description of the events that occurred in Alice's classroom that morning. I saw the words "Mrs. Brandon" several times, along with words and phrases like: "lecture," " general explanation," "poor laboratory technique," "misunderstanding," and "oversimplification of scientific concepts."
That last one was a dead giveaway.
"Edward?" I asked.
"Edward," she confirmed. "Have you read the whole thing?"
"No, should I?"
"I think you should."
I continued down the page and onto the other side. At the end of the classroom observations, Edward had left an additional note.
After spending my morning in Mrs. Brandon's classroom, I find it easy to understand why our nation faces a crisis in math and science scores among students. Her explanations of even the simplest chemical concepts are elementary in the extreme, and I feel pity for any student who continues on in his science education if he is reliant upon the foundational knowledge he gains in Mrs. Brandon's class. It is my opinion that both Mrs. Brandon and her students would be better served if she chose to pursue a career outside of education, and preferably in a field other than chemistry.
It was signed, "Dr. E. Masen."
After I finished reading, I looked over at Alice.
"No wonder you were crying. How on earth did you even get this?"
"That's the kicker. He gave it to me. He left it lying on my desk and pointed it out before he left to go to lunch. He said he thought I might 'find it of assistance.'"
"He is unbelievable." I flopped down into my desk chair and sighed.
"Is he right, Bella?" Alice asked. Her eyes were brimming with tears again. "Am I really that bad? I mean, I know I'm pretty new, and I know I know the subject. I have a doctorate for goodness' sake, but there are plenty of smart people who can't teach. Am I one of those people?"
"Alice, no. You're great. You're only in your second year, and everyone struggles at the beginning, but you are really good. The kids love you, and you said it yourself; all of them passed the state test last year. It's unusual for everyone to pass in a class with an experienced teacher, never mind a first year teacher. He has no clue, plus he's an asshole."
"You promise?" she asked, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.
"Yes, I promise; I'm fairly certain he's an asshole." I grinned at her and she giggled.
"You know what I mean."
I stood and walked over to where she still leaned against my counter and put my arms around her. "You're doing a great job." I pulled away and looked at her wonderingly. "One thing though - you have a doctorate? As in a Ph.D.?"
"Of course! You didn't know that?"
I shook my head. "Alice, you're twenty-five. How on earth do you have a Ph.D.?"
"Oh, that!" She waved her hand as if having a doctoral degree in Chemistry at twenty-five was no big deal. "So?"
"So, you started teaching at twenty-four, and you said you took a year off before that. You finished a Ph.D. at twenty-two? How is that even possible?"
"Well, I started undergrad at fifteen, I finished when I was eighteen, and then my doctorate took four years. I would have finished faster than that but my thesis advisor died. It took me awhile to get my new one to take me seriously."
"Yeah, I can see how that would be rough," I replied. I felt a little dazed. I knew she was brilliant, but I had no idea she was this brilliant.
Alice continued. "That's why Jas broke up with me that time I mentioned. I was barely eighteen when we met. He thought I was too young. He's only four years older than me, but I guess when you're twenty-two, dating an eighteen year old is a little odd. I wasn't really your average eighteen year old, though."
"So you got married when you were eighteen?"
"Oh, no, silly! We got married right before I finished my degree. I was twenty-one. My father insisted we wait, and besides, I was really busy with my research."
"Research?"
"Yeah, for my dissertation I developed an environmentally-friendly coolant for use in wind and water turbines. Writing a dissertation and doing all those patent applicationsand planning a wedding were really time-consuming."
"P-p-patent applications?" I needed to sit down. I walked over and dropped into my chair.
"Yeah, some companies got wind of my research, and they wanted to use it, but I had to patent everything first and figure out what to charge and everything. The companies weren't so bad to deal with, but the government was kind of a pain in the butt."
"The UnitedStates government?"
"Yeah, they were super interested. It all worked out in the end though, and the money was nice; it meant that Jazzy and I could take a year off and travel for our honeymoon."
"Alice, forgive me for being nosy, but, um...how much money?"
"Oh, I don't know, a few million initially, and then there's some more each year, plus I've made some alterations to the formula that increased its uses ... I don't really know; Jazzy takes care of all that. He's much better at all the business stuff. I just like to invent things."
"Okay, please understand that you are one of my best friends and I love having you here, but, Alice ... why the hell are you teaching high school?"
"I thought it would be fun! I needed to do something, and I didn't want to work in a boring old lab. I have a lab at home, but I didn't want to be there alone all day. I was too young to really get to do the whole high school thing when I was there, so this was a second chance. All the fun without all the drama, you know?"
"Let me get this straight. You got a Ph.D. at twenty-two, you're married to the love of your life, you're a millionaire, you are doing this job for fun, and yet you letthis upset you?" I held out the offending paper. She took it from me and glanced over it.
"I may be here for fun, but I still want to do a good job, you know? That whole math/science crisis thing is real. Jazzy and I have been investigating some different foundations to invest in that are working on the problem. It's one of the reasons I decided to teach, too. I love chemistry so much, and I hoped I could get other people to love it."
"Alice, that's just..."
"Can I tell you a secret?" she interrupted.
"You know you can tell me anything."
"It's a secret-secret, like, you can't tell anyone."
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
"No, I'm dying to tell someone." Alice's eyes widened until she took on her classic cartoon-character look.
"Okay, go for it." After all of her revelations of the past half hour, I could not begin to guess what she was about to tell me.
"We're funding a scholarship. We're going to pick three seniors from King Phillip and pay for their college, wherever they want to go. Tuition, books, room and board - everything. We're even giving them a stipend."
Now it was my eyes that were full of tears. "Alice, you're amazing. You have no reason to ever feel bad about yourself or your teaching. Next time that jerk gives you trouble, tell him to screw himself."
"You're right," she said, nodding and standing up straighter.
"Do you want me to go to Carlisle with this?" I asked, holding up the offending paper. "I will if you want me to."
"Nope." She quirked her eyebrows and grinned. "I'll handle it myself."
I was about to ask her how she planned to handle it when Doctor Obnoxious himself appeared in the doorway.
"Miss Swan, Mrs. Brandon," he said, with a slight nod.
Alice picked up the paper and swept toward the door, her head erect. She paused as she passed him in the doorway.
"Thank you for the, ah ... feedback, Mr. Masen," she said. Before he could cut in with the ever-present correction of his name, she continued, "just one thing though. In the future, I would prefer it if you address me as Doctor Brandon." She smiled archly and called back, "Have a good afternoon, Bella," then exited the room.
I had to hand it to her; the girl had style.
~*~ pc ~*~
Thanks for reading! Click the little button and tell me what you thought, then go read In Your World by solostintwilight. Fun with Amishward!
