Chapter 4
DAY 4
FIRST DAY FOR STUDENTS: FOR some weird reason, I was rather nervous: Couldn’t tell you why. Maybe it was because I was moving from high school to middle school. Or maybe it was because I was moving from LD (learning disabilities) to MR, an area in which I had little experience. Whatever; it really didn’t matter much. The past three days had been a whirlwind of running here and there, filling out forms, and moments of desperation, but somehow I had survived. Now here was the reward. My students were on their way.
The first to arrive was a young lady who appeared to be seventeen. Tall and willowy with a perfect figure and chiseled features, she came sweeping into the room. She gave me a sideways glance, floated to a desk, and sank into a chair without effort.
“Good morning,” I offered, “I am Mrs. Baker and you are…”
“Shanita,” she replied in a flat tone.
“What a pretty name. How old are you Shanita?” I questioned.
“Thirteen!” was the curt reply. “I am in the eighth grade!!”
“Well, you could pass for seventeen, you know.”
And then she gave me a gift. A bright, beautiful smile fell across her lovely face and she seemed to glow from the inside out.
“Thank you,” she beamed.
Before I could utter another word to Shanita, the room exploded with excited chatter and clatter
“Hi!! My name is Katy and everyone calls me Katy,” said a thin blonde child with the most extraordinary hair I had ever seen. It was long and corkscrew curly and resembled fluffy golden clouds framing her angular face. Katy was in the 8th grade.
“Then Katy it is,” I said with a smile.
Katy sat down in the circle of chairs I had formed in the center of the room. She perched there on the edge of her seat, an anxious expression covering her sweet face.
“Welcome,” I piped to the next child as he made his way to the circle. “And who might you be?”
“Tavion,” he grumbled, “eighth grade, and I have a parole officer.”
“Is that a good thing?” I asked.
“Maybe,” he grinned.
Next, a tiny little guy galloped in. An eighth grader, he more closely resembled a third grader. His struggle with clear pronunciation was hard to miss. “Awe you my teacha?” he asked pleasantly.
“I sure am. And what is your name you cute thing?”
“Cahwin,” he replied.
“Well hello Colin and I am sure glad to see you,” I said as I gently patted him on the back.
Colin slid into a chair and nibbled at his fingernails.
“Who are you?” a voice twittered behind me.
I turned around and there stood fraternal twins I guessed must be Modessa and Modena.
“Hi girls: Wow, how cool is it having twins in my room!"
The girls stared at me in fascination I have no idea why.
The taller of the two said, “This here is Modena and I’m Modessa. We’re in the eighth grade this year.”
“Good to know. And I am Mrs. Baker and we are going to have a great year, don’t you think?”
Modena smiled and Modessa gave me a bored look that could wither lettuce.
A rather large woman with a mass of unruly and dirty hair and a man with an interesting lop-sided mustache came in right behind a darling little 6th grader who was tip-toeing into the room.
“This here is Samantha. She’s kind of slow. She don’t read or write, but we think she’s purty smart,” the woman yawned. “I’m her mama and she ain’t got no dad.”
“How do you do: I’m Mrs. Baker.” I turned to the pixie on tiptoes and said, “Hi there, Samantha.”
Samantha looked up at me with a dreamy look on her face and tiptoed to the nearest chair in the circle.
“Us ones at home and church people call her ‘Sammy’ and that’s about it, ‘cept she don’t talk much,” said Samantha’s mother as she turned to leave. The man just nodded and stared at the floor.
“All righty then: We shall call her Sammy.”
And with that, they were gone.
In loped a tall, gangly girl with short-cropped hair and a crooked smile that could break your heart. “Where’s Mrs. Fuller? Are you the substitute? This is still the special ed. room, right? Can I go to the bathroom?”
“First, it’s ‘May I go to the bathroom’ and second, what is your name?”
“Kanesha; and I need to go bad."
“Go with the wind but hurry back.” Kanesha was in the 7th grade.
And these were my darlings: My new students: At a new school. And all was well with the world.
But the year was young.
