The bells jingle at the end of my joker hat with every step I take. The multicolored fabric brings joy to the environment instead of the thoughts of a horror film. Although I may look silly wearing this hat as a grown adult, it's way better than a few others I've accumulated back in the day. The collection I've gathered remains on their hooks by the door as I continue to walk around without thinking about the hat head I've created.

I started collecting hats from the moment my grandfather bought me my first soda hat at the Mets World Series game back in 1986. It was the first time I've had an interest in something. As the other boys collected baseball cards and hot wheels, I spent my lawn-mowing money on the dusty old hats at the nearby thrift store.

Walking in, I would make a beeline straight to the back corner where they sat on a rack; occasionally, one would fall off and I'd take the time to wipe off any dirt it may have gathered since the last time I stepped foot into the shop.

No matter how many times I begged the manager to hold that special hat in the back for one more week as I collected a few more cents, he repeatedly told me no. Not that it really mattered, no one else had their eyes on the item. Every Sunday morning the rack of hats still remained in the far right corner of the old thrift store until the day it permanently flipped its sign to closed.

I loved my childhood. A lot of great memories traveling up and down the block on my bike to the shop that collected most of my allowance.

Stopping just at the end of the board, I began pacing back the other way. I've been walking along this map for at least 20 seconds as I watched their suspension rise. Their eyes followed mine, their smiles hurting my cheeks as I try to keep from laughing while their giggles break the silence.

If someone were to walk in right now they'd assume I wasn't doing my job. But the truth is I love to entertain, it's the only thing I'm good at. Just yelling out the answer and assigning material isn't how I work. They need to know that even I get things wrong sometimes and it's okay. It takes practice and sooner or later it'll all make since. Not everyone is right and not everything is as easy as 1, 2, 3.

Which is why I'm continuing to pace a map of the United States searching for California.

Before things get too antsy, I stop and bring my pointer finger up. "Is this it?" I ask, landing on the state of Florida.

The tiny humans burst out laughing "Noooo!"

Squinting my eyes, I shake my head. "Are you sure?" I question, keeping them on their toes.

"Yessss..."

"Oh!" I smile, acting like I completely understand now "Then this must be California?" I point to another state.

"No, Mr. Bing, that's Texas." Miles informs me.

I chuckle and face my students. I can't believe how long I've come in the past 5 years.

I never would have dreamed of becoming a teacher when walking across the stage and grabbing hold of my bachelor's degree. The day I heard my name being called as I moved my tassel to the left side of my cap, I was ready to take on the marketing aspect of the world. Up until 2 years ago teaching never crossed my mind. In fact, there was only one thing that I knew I wanted to do. And that was to give back what was given to me.

I remember how my teachers had confidence in my future when I started to doubt myself; it's what helped me continue my education. They were there to steer me in the right direction when I was beginning to lose focus. For me, I saw school as a 7 hour walk through pouring down rain. It was hard and tedious. Education is important but I feel like the best years of my life were ruined by all-nighters followed by 5 a.m coffee runs in order to keep moving.

At the end of my four years of high school teaching was the last thing I expected my career to develop into. It wasn't until I was flipping through some old photo albums one night of my best friend Joey and I in primary school, that teaching even became a thought. I kept wondering if my teachers then taught me the valuable lessons I've learned in college, I would have more faith in myself. It was at that moment that I knew I wanted to be a middle school teacher. I wanted my students to leave my classroom with more confidence than they had walking in.

I wanted to teach young children that it's okay to be wrong and make mistakes. When you fall down, get back up and continue to keep trying. It doesn't matter how long it takes until you understand your mistake, as long as you don't give up you will succeed with more power than the day you started walking.

When I came across teaching I knew I had to go back to school and get my degree. I was a year into my courses and doing well as the summer rolled around. I had the love of my life under my arm and an amazing career in hands reach. I knew my future looked bright as I signed up for a few extra classes over the summer to get a jump start on the following semester.

However, all good things must come to an end.

I was elbow deep into my college classes during the summer when my heart got shattered. The one future that made my life worth living walked out on me.

I was in love with someone I knew I was going to marry one day. We talked about the future and what we both wanted. We even saved up for an apartment together when we felt it was time to take the next step.

The day she left I knew things were going to be different between us. It wasn't easy watching her go. But what struck me the most was watching her cry as she walked away. It was like she didn't want this but knew it was for the best.

However, I didn't see it as being best.

Knowing that there was not much to say that would turn everything back to where it once was, I watched her board the Red Eye straight out of my life.

While I stayed behind, she went to chase a dream.

I couldn't just drop everything. I've come so far, I wasn't going to throw it all away now. As I applied to a few local grade schools searching for the perfect job, Monica got the role of a lifetime and appeared on the cover of issued magazines across the country.

The day my phone rang, offering me an opening as a teachers aid, I knew it was only the beginning of my career to teach children as young as 5 years old the one feeling that kept me going. And that word is belief.

Turning around I faced my 2nd grade class. "Who can show me where Monica is?"

And just like that 22 hands shot up.

I watched as they reached their fingers higher than their friend. Grunts escaped a few of them but I scanned right over every one of my confident students until I landed on a little girl sitting on the edge of the carpet with her hands resting quietly in her lap.

Zigzagging slowly through the pretzel styled army that I've created, I make my way towards her before bending down in a squatting position. "Emily, do you know where California is?"

She nods with a smile as she sits up straight.

"Do you think you can show me on the map?"

She nods again and unfolds her legs so she can stand up. I stay in a squatting position, my hands folded in front of me, as I watch her walk up to the map and point to the state on the far West side of the country.

"Very good, Em." I smile, standing up to give my knees a break. Walking back towards the board I exchange a high-five with my noble student as she makes her way back to her seat. With a calming sigh I look up at the face-clock hanging over the door as it ticks away with every passing second. "How about we have free time for the remaining 5 minutes of class?" I suggest which gets an ear piercing yell of excitement in return.

I remain in the front of the classroom as everyone jumps up and makes their way to the pile of games that are reserved for indoor recess or free time. It's only a few times a year that they get a chance to have recess inside. On the days it's either too cold or pouring down rain the kids will come back in the classroom after lunch and usually break out the game Sorry or UNO to keep them occupied. There have been a few times where they would walk in and spot me at my desk catching up on some grading. Assuming, since I am in the room, recess is canceled. Without arguing, they would go straight to their desk and dig out their Math books ready to start the next lesson.

Fortunately, I'm not that kind of a teacher. Cramming subjects without any breaks in between can be stressful and even exhausting. I try to provide at least 20 minutes each day for a little down time to reboot their momentum.

I love my job. These kids are what get me up in the morning and keeps me moving until dawn. They are my inspiration and what my whole world revolves around.

My career started off rocky but once I put on my hard helmet and greeted my first set of students it felt like I was where I was meant to be.

"Mr. Bing, do you want to play?" A few of my students look up at me with hopeful eyes, some of them nodding "Yeah!"

Smiling, I walk over to the craft covered table and take a seat. "Deal me in, Rugrat." I tease as I'm dealt 7 UNO cards. Glancing down at the 4 different colored cards in my hand I sigh contently before looking over at my desk. All three sides of that rusty old desk is now covered with colorful paintings and drawings that my students made as a welcome gift this year. I can honestly say I have never been more blessed. This is a class that I will never forget. They are my first official 2nd grade class and I hope that each group after them is just as excited about school as these kids are.

Playing my red 3 I remember that just over a year ago I had none of this. I didn't have my own classroom, no desk with a name plate. The only name I was referred to was "Mr.?" Always said with a question mark at the end and an unsure look in their eyes, like they weren't sure if it was okay that they just grabbed my attention.

Do I regret being a teachers aid at the start of my career? Of course not. It was a job that got me to where I am today.

My arms were crossed over my chest, as my heart raced. Melissa Peters, who taught the 5th grade, was about to lose all self-control.

Bringing my hand up to rub her back, I try to console her. She smiles thankful for the support and I nod before turning my attention towards the man that brought us all here.

"I know that everyone here is aware of the merger." He begins; his emotion visible to us all.

The whole staff was standing around the lounge, some sitting, while Mr. Brooks explained how next year only about 10 of us would be standing in this same spot.

We heard about the merger a few weeks ago; we all knew the possibilities of losing our jobs. The last few years, before I was even considered a teaches aid, students began to drop in number; causing the school to slowly decrease in size. With only a month and a half left of the year we were informed of what was going on behind closed doors. What we didn't know was that Tompkins Square Grade School was not the only middle school going through this rough patch.

John Ericsson, Hunter's Point and Tompkins Square are the three main grade schools in the community that are involved in this merger. These three schools have dropped classes, clubs and even a few sport teams in order to keep up with funds.

We didn't just need students, but we also needed the support from one another in order to keep our jobs and stay in business.

That thought is what brought the town council together to come up with the merging of three schools.

I've been working at Tompkins Square for only two months before we received the news. I was fresh out of college with little experience at the time. Right now I work as a teachers aid and walk around daily to make sure everyone understands what is going on. It's not the job I hoped for, but I know it will help me in the future. That is, if there is a future.

"With over 50 staff members between the three schools many of the hired teachers are unneeded. And in order to pick out those teachers that are the most qualified, we are asking all current teachers, Pre-K - 8th grade, to reapply for their job."

I hear a few gasps, or grunts, I couldn't quite be sure; among the staff.

I felt an aching feeling in the pit of my stomach. The fact that I wasn't an actual teacher told me that I was already out of the job once the school year ended.

By the end of the meeting the tissue box was empty and there was not a single dry eye in the room. It was as if Bambi's father was shot and now no one was alive to help guide him away from trouble. He was on his own, except Thumper of course. But what good was a rabbit against a gun? I'm pretty sure the hunters will win this round.

I don't think I would ever let my kids watch that movie, too depressing.

"Chandler."

My thoughts are broken when I look up to find no one but Mr. Brooks standing in front of me.

"I know this meeting may not qualify to you, but I want you to know that I believe you will be an exceptional teacher one day." He gives me a warm smile and I can't help but wonder why he won't consider me if he thinks I'm exceptional. "I can tell that you will change a lot of kids lives one day."

I nod "Thank you, Sir."

Shifting from one foot to the other, he continues "My brother-in-law is the principle over at Leman Manhattan Preparatory School off of Morris Street." He tells me "I'll be sure to get in a good word about you and see if I can get a job lined up for this coming Fall. I know he is looking for a new 2nd grade teacher because Mrs. Baker is retiring."

The smile that forms on my face is genuine.

"What do you say, are you interested?"

I nod, shake my head, remove my hands from my pockets...I don't know what to do. I'm unbelievably touched that he would do something so thoughtful for someone he's only known a couple months. "I would greatly appreciate that, I don't know how to thank you in a way that won't make my next reaction unprofessional." He chuckles before I lean in and give him a hug.

My day went from a balloon without any air in it to the top of the monkey-bars in two minutes.

The day I get my own desk I'll be sure to cover the rusty, old sides with colorful artwork. Even if I have to color them myself.

Luckily, I didn't.

My desk is covered with wonderful pictures my students drew for me since the day I held open the door with a wizards hat on. Some of them walked in calling me different, but I took that as a compliment.

The bell rings and my students quickly put away their games before gathering their books and shoving them in their backpacks to bring home.

I stand in front of the door where I remain patiently to walk them out to their awaiting parents.

One by one they form a single file line facing me with their backpacks tight on their shoulders and empty lunch boxes in their hands. As the kids in the back start up a conversation about a possible sleepover this weekend, I start to lead my class out the doors and down the hall.

Passing the junior high students at their lockers, a few of the 2nd graders wave to their role models.

Locker doors slam one after the other while they rush out the main doors and to their guardians sitting in the car. Normally, I'd yell after them to not run in the hallway, but it's almost the weekend and I'm in a good mood.

"Mr. Bing, I see my mom." Little Rebecca informs me before hurrying down the steps and to her mother.

I have a fear -that I'm sure every parent has- of one of my kids getting into a strangers car or being lured away from a crowd. Which is why I have them stay together as a class at the top of the staircase until they spot their parents. And once they do, they must tell me before running off.

I've watched way too many 60 minute events where kids go missing after school.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow, Becca." I smile, giving her mother a friendly wave in the process.

Once all of my kids are safely in their guardians hands, I take off my joker hat and head back inside.

It's been a long day, but I loved every minute of it. I still have a stack of ungraded papers that need my attention and a hand full of phone calls to make. However, I put it off until I get home. I need to change out of my suit and tie and kick off my heavy Dockers Gordon dress shoes before I spend a couple hours deep into more work.

Placing all the paperwork inside my brief case, I set it down on top of my desk and walk over to a small metal cage sitting on the windowsill. Bending down so we are eye level with one another, I wiggle my nose just like him "What a day, Waffles." Watching as my bunny rabbit's whiskers move up and down with his rosy pink nose, I reach over and grab a treat off the shelf underneath him.

A class pet is something I always enjoyed as a kid. Taking turns and feeding the animal are duties all the kids look forward too. Occasionally, one of my students will bring in a special treat and ask to feed Waffles. To which I always allow; depending on the snack, that is. Their excitement lights up even my face as I watch Waffles nibble on the large vegetable sticking through the metal bars.

Smiling, I stand up straight and begin to close all the windows to the classroom.

Tomorrow is the start of a new day.

AN:

I felt like I dragged on this chapter and made it longer than it needed to be. But hey! I posted and that's all that matters ;) I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter like a sunny day at the beach! I'd rather be at the beach right now than sitting in an un-air-conditioned house eating goldfish as my laptop heats up my legs...

So these first two chapters were basically fillers to help get to know the characters. The next one is Monica's POV and a little bit shorter. I'll post it next week so feel free to review now until then ;)

I love stories with a ton of detail so if you feel like at any time I'm loading up on WAY too much detail don't hesitate to review on that and I'll tone it down some. Sometimes it can get hard to read, but I've read through this a few times that it just comes natural to me now.