Author: Carla

Megan, welcome to Hamptonville High School! I’m Margaret Carnahan, I’ll be right next door if you ever need anything. Here – let me help you carry that. I hear you’re a first-year teacher, is that right? Well, welcome to teaching! I’ll just put this on your desk.

This room used to be Andrew Roffe’s – he taught in here the last 3 years. He was a good guy. We could set our watches by what he was doing. If he was walking into the building, it was 7:45. If he was leaving the building, it was 4:00, and somehow you knew every paper was graded. There WAS a little disruption in his routine when his son was born, but once the baby started sleeping through the night, Andrew was back on track. He and Lauren were saving up to move out of their little apartment and into a house. He spent the day teaching; he spent the night with his family. Coached a little football. He was a happy man.

And the students got that. Guidance used to take the kids who spent most of the year in detention and assign them to Andrew on purpose. Somehow he made algebra fun and he kept things organized, and it worked for them.

He almost never assigned a detention. And when he did, he would show up, sit with the student, and work on the assignment. He never lectured them about “making good choices” or about attitude or respect – they talked about math. Kids liked that he didn’t talk down to them.

He and I didn’t agree on everything, though. Last March a mother cat had some kittens underneath the storage shed over by the parking lot. Some of us started leaving food and treats so the mother cat wouldn’t have to leave the kittens alone for very long to get food. Andrew used to laugh at us when we talked about it at lunch. He said that cat would be just fine on its own.

And then came that Monday … it was early in April. Andrew came to school with a bad headache, said he had felt dizzy all weekend. His family had been sick, too – he joked about how they took turns throwing up and doing laundry. Lauren was going to call the pediatrician when the clinic opened up. While Andrew was at school he started feeling a lot better, so he thought it was a 24-hour bug. He called at noon, but Lauren didn’t answer. He thought she was at the clinic.

The coroner said it was carbon monoxide. They found a hole in the rusty vent pipe from the gas water heater in that tiny apartment.

He took a week for their funeral, and his sister came in from out of town for a few days. He brought back all our casserole dishes and wrote us all thank-you notes. We could still set our watches by his coming and going, but he stayed in his classroom all day, even through lunch. We tried, but no, he didn’t want to go out for a beer on Friday after school. No, he didn’t want to go see a movie with a bunch of us. No, he was fine. He’d be OK on his own.

And then … and then those kittens started eating that cat food we were leaving, and we knew they were weaned and it was time to find them homes. The first 3 went quickly, and then someone claimed the runt, and then the momma cat was on her own. Like Andrew said, she was OK. But she hung around the storage shed like she was looking for something.

I had detention duty in May. The custodian left a door propped open so the baseball team could get to their lockers after practice. Andrew was sitting with a young man, talking about quadratic equations, when that momma cat strolled into the detention room. A couple of girls squealed a little, but they knew they couldn’t get out of their seats. And that cat walked over to Andrew. He tried to shoo her away, but she waited until he wasn’t looking, and she jumped up on his lap. Andrew was so startled he just kind of sat there for a second. The cat bumped her head up under his hand. She wanted to be petted. Andrew kind of scratched her ears a little.

And then … a flea jumped off the cat onto the worksheet … and it caught them by surprise … And they laughed. AND LAUGHED! It was the first time I had heard Andrew laugh in weeks.

He scratched that momma cat’s ears and said, “You need a bath and a flea collar.  You wanna come home with me?” And that cat purred, and he smiled, and just for a moment, I could almost see the old Andrew again.

We decided detention would be cut short that day. I went home to MY family; the kids went home to THEIRS; and Andrew … well, Andrew didn’t go back to that apartment alone.

The last couple weeks of school, there was a little more laughter coming from his classroom. He complained about the cost of cat food and vet bills during lunch. And when summer came, he left Hamptonville and moved closer to his sister and her family.

Andrew was right: that cat was OK on its own. But it was better when it wasn’t COMPLETELY on its own.

And Megan, honey, you are not completely on your own, either. Sometimes teachers feel like we’re isolated, but we never are. I’m next door, and you’ve got friends all up and down this hall. You remember that.

I’ll let you get settled in now. If you need anything, just holler.

Hi, Nicole! Oh, I’m just waiting a few minutes – I’ve been asked to sit in on a review board. One of the National Honor Society students was caught at a party with some beer, and she’s challenging her suspension. We had to wait until one of her parents could get off work to be here.

Yeah, they can challenge it. I was on one of these boards a couple of years ago. One of the basketball players flunked his drug test. Weed. And, oh, he was challenging it big time! We had to wait until BOTH parents could get off work. He was mad – there was a possible scholarship at stake, and anyway it was his first offense, and he knew about others who got away with it, and why weren’t we going after them? … you know, every excuse in the book. We let him have his say, but when it came time to vote, the test results were clear, and the policy was clear, and he had signed it. He did not play basketball the rest of the season.

I heard later that his parents thanked the Athletic Director privately after it was all over. They had suspected that he was partying, but when they asked him about it, he denied it, of course, and they couldn’t prove anything. Maybe now they could get him into some kind of after-school program. And it turned out OK. Because he also ran track. He came back clean in the spring, set a couple of new school records, made the honor roll, and won a scholarship in track. He’s an athletic trainer now, works with kids who are trying to get to the Olympics. He turned out OK. I hope this little gal does, too.

It’s so hard to be a parent these days. You and I – we’ve got an advantage, because we can be home with our kids after school – unless we have a meeting like this one – but a lot of parents are working overtime, working weekends. And when both parents are working, someone’s gotta watch the kids. Grandma and Grampa are great with the little ones, but once the kids start being more independent, it gets hard. And some of these kids don’t HAVE Grandma and Grampa.

Sometimes you wonder what kind of parents they’ll turn out to be.

Oh, did you hear what happened this morning in Fred Wexford’s biology class? He’s doing that unit he does every spring with the ducklings. They incubate some eggs, and when they hatch, each student gets one to work with. It’s an instinct thing – the duckling thinks the first thing it sees is its mother. After a week, if it will follow the student down the length of the hall and back, the kid gets an A.

Well, that fire drill this morning came right when the kids were working with their ducklings! The kids picked them up and carried them outside. And when they got outside, the ducklings tried to flap their little wings, and some of the kids were startled and let them go, and they were down in the grass and walking over to the far side of the parking lot at the end of the building. Some of the ducklings were trying to fly, the kids were running, chasing them, trying to herd them across the parking lot. It was comical.

And then around the corner came the fire engine. Apparently someone didn’t tell the fire department it was just a drill – and that engine came screaming around the corner. Justin Bachmeyer was driving – do you remember him? He’s the only student in the history of Hamptonville High School who ever wrecked the driver’s ed car. Totaled it. And now he’s driving the fire truck.

Anyway, Justin thought it was a real fire; he came in right as the kids and the ducklings were getting ready to cross the parking lot. It all happened so fast. The kids and ducklings were moving THIS way, the fire engine flew past THAT way, and I thought, “Oh, no!”

Then I looked. … And the students had stopped … and the DUCKLINGS had stopped. And one by one, without a word, the kids reached down and picked up their ducklings. Even the ones that were flapping their wings – the kids figured out how to pick them up and hold them carefully, and they carried them across the parking lot to safety. They held on until we could go back in the building and put ‘em back where they’d be safe.

It’s a tough job, being a parent. You just do your best, learn from your mistakes, and have faith it will all work out. It usually does.

Looks like they’re getting ready to start. Take it easy, Nicole. Give the baby a hug from me.

Note: this is the first Mrs. Carnahan story. I wrote it to perform at an Open Mic Night. You’ll see notes I’ve written to myself about movement.

Hello, Dr. Eierkopf. I understand you wanted to see me. Oh, thank you. (sits)

(sigh of relief) We had a fire drill today at school, and I tell you, a fire drill on a Monday just throws the whole day off. So … how many years has it been since you were a student in my calculus class? That many? And now you’re my boss. How do you like being superintendent? (pause)

Yeah, teaching’s like that, too. Great people to work with, but every now and then, strange things happen.

So, you want to know about what happened last Friday, right? The Hansens phoned you this morning, did they?

Well.

First of all, I appreciate this chance to set the record straight. I know Jenny wasn’t very happy with what happened — neither was I — and I’m not surprised her parents phoned.

Where to begin?

You know over at the high school we’ve been cracking down on smoking in the restrooms. It was just getting out of hand. So all the teachers were assigned “Potty Patrol,” and we had to stand in the restroom between classes to prevent smoking. That was working pretty well in most of the school, but there were some times when a teacher just couldn’t get to the restroom between classes, and there were some students smoking.

And I’ll admit, I was having trouble getting to my Potty Patrol right after fifth period calculus class. This one student, Jordan James, stopped by my desk after class every day for 2 weeks — right after we started potty patrol — always with a question about the lesson. We’d talk until it was almost time for the bell to ring, and then he would scoot across the hall to his next class, and it was time for my sixth period class to start. Do you know Jordan? He has a great mind for mathematics! He’s planning a career in electrical engineering, and he’ll be really good at it.

SO … I wasn’t getting to Potty Patrol because I was helping Jordan. And down the hall, some girl was smoking in that restroom.

Well, Mr. Seymour was not happy with me, and I can’t blame him. He sent me 3 emails about Potty Patrol during those 2 weeks, and he personally came up to my room Friday morning to talk to me about it. He said some girls were complaining about the smoke, said it was happening pretty much every day. I told him about Jordan, and he seemed to understand, but he still wanted me to get down the hall to Potty Patrol.

I mean really — help a student understand mathematics, the language with which God wrote the universe … or try to catch someone smoking in the bathroom – which would YOU do? But, anyway …

So it was Friday, and the kids came to class right after lunch all buzzing. Apparently Jordan’s girlfriend – Jenny Hansen – broke up with him at lunch. The kids said it was quite a scene. Apparently Jenny went so far as to call Jordan’s car a “rust bucket.” And then Jordan walked in, and everyone got quiet, and I started the lesson. Jordan was unusually quiet, too; but about halfway through class, it was like he remembered something, and he smiled to himself, and then he was fine. After class he stopped by my desk again, but this time he just stayed long enough to say thanks for all the extra help I’d been giving him. Then he went across the hall to his next class. As he went out the door, he was kind of talking to himself, and I heard him say, “I might be driving a rust bucket now, but someday I’m going to drive a Tesla.”

I felt for him. But then I realized … I actually had time for Potty Patrol!

(Stand here.)

I grabbed my coffee mug so I could rinse it out, and I hustled down the hall.

And when I got to the girls’ restroom, uh! it was intense! People who smoke have no idea how bad they smell to people who don’t smoke. But while I was choking, I realized I had another problem. You know, we have to catch a smoker “butt in hand,” so to speak, before we can give them detention. How could I do that? She was in a stall.

I went over to the sink, and while I was rinsing out my coffee mug, and I’m not really sure why I did this … but I filled up the mug, stepped over to the stall door, and, uh … emptied the mug. (gesture, throwing water over top of stall)

Well, there was a string of profanity, and the stall door popped open, and there stood a very angry Jenny Hansen.

And that’s when I realized — Jordan James wasn’t worried about his calculus grade. He was keeping me in my classroom so that his girlfriend could smoke in peace. I guess Jenny forgot about that when she dumped him.

So there she stood, dripping wet, giving me the look of death. All I could say was, “I saw smoke, figured there must be fire.”

(Sit here.)

So, Dr. Eierkopf, that’s what happened. Oh, the Hansens didn’t tell you all of it? I’m not surprised. Jenny probably left out some of the details.

By the way, I saw Jordan today. He didn’t have any questions after class. But he did kind of grin as he walked out the door.

(Stand) It’s been great talking with you. Say hi to Christine for me.