Perspiration

The air conditioning keeps going out in my classroom. Once a week there’s a familiar heaviness to the air, turning my room into a pained dance with heat.

Sometimes it’s the sun. Sometimes it’s the kids, the administration, the county. Sweat beading on my forehead, glistening my hair, dripping down my face, soaking me in my own inexperience.

It’s hard to even try to explain all the things that have happened, but rest assured, teaching 8th grade is by far the single most challenging job I’ve ever undertaken. Everything happens fast, everything is on the edge of control, everything is a continual game of push and pull.

Depending on who you ask, I’m either really good at it, or I’ve got a long, long, way to go.

       Hell, they even tried to fire me last Friday.

They call it "surplussing." It means there are not enough kids in the school for all the teachers that have been hired, and as a county employee, you can be moved somewhere else in the district where your services are needed. Our budget hit a crunch, and the school decided to cut junior staff. Or more specifically, when they looked at the junior staff, they decided to cut me.

Just as the air conditioner went out, I got a call to come meet the principal.

       “I’m terribly sorry,”
       “I wish there was another way”
       “Let me know if there’s anything I can do…”

It hit me like a wall. Like an unwanted cotton blanket on a summer day. What’s more, I still had to teach 4 more classes with a smile on my face, acting like nothing had happened.

It was as if someone had picked me up by my feet and shaken all the air out of me. I was floating in dirty water, thinking that if I could just swim I would make shore and get out -- but in all the sweltering heat, with the murky liquid of failure and rejection all around me, all I could seem to say was…

       “So, do you have your homework today?”
       “Um… no, not really.”
       “… Whatever.”

Four hours later, staying late to finish paperwork, the principal showed back up at my door to inform me that the county had vetoed the school’s decision… saving my job.

A moment later the AC kicked back in, and the room began to get very, very cold.