My students wear the same clothes to school, everyday. Not just the same outer sweater or hoodie, but the same pants, shirt and outer
wear.
I heard my phone buzz in my bag. I was leaning over a student's desk, trying to help her with her classwork. I figured it was a friend texting me and ignored it. I walked past the front office of the school after the class and saw a complete cluster fuck. I pulled out my phone and saw that the message was some sort of tornado thing. I continued with my day, assuming we'd hear an announcement if anything was going on.
One of my best students was absent the day of his standardized test. The one I have to administer. I learned how to do it, barely, two weeks ago and have done nothing but that ever since. I stood in the dismissal car pool line, one of my school duties. I saw his mom ride up in her compact car to pick up his other three brothers. He smiled at my serenely from the back seat as he glided by, wearing the same sweater he always wears to school.
"TORNADO!" a teacher screamed, running through the hallways.
"GET IN THE HALL!"
Kids and teachers filtered out and assumed the position. I motioned to one of the few children I knew to get on his knees and bend over. I've been through dozens of tornado drills, some of them not drills. I was embarrassed that I felt like I was going to cry. This thing could be real. It could rip the roof off, plow down this janky ass school. And every kid here could die. And no one even sounded an alarm, except for the teacher that lost his shit and ran down the halls. I watched one of my kids, Kavi, his hand over his mouth and the other over his forehead, smash himself into place.
I stood in the dismissal line. Two police officers walked from their car into the school. They returned with a student between them, put him in the back of the car and drove away.
"I have to report another testing violation." I told my assistant principal, after saving the information for hours until I signed in the rest of my materials.
"She entered the room, I told her that even teachers could not enter the testing room and she told me to tell you that she was "not going to pee herself", then she entered that little kindergarten bathroom between the two rooms."
I saw the administrator's face turn to disgust.
"That...bathroom?"
"Yeah."
My school is old. Back when kindergarten rooms had these little water closets off to the side. The idea that an adult would use THAT BATHROOM and, ignore any semblance of the presence of standardized testing because they refuse to walk down the hall and use an adult bathroom was baffling. And, I was alienating my new co-workers by telling on them.
I returned to the kindergarten room the next morning, to finish my testing. The administrator was with me.
"So, I spoke with Ms. Snyder about testing and she kind of grumbled, but it is what it is and I think she understands." she told me.
Then, she started pushing this 1940s cloak closet in front of the door Ms. Snyder kept invading through. I grabbed the other side of it and pulled it in front of the door.
"Thanks!" I said sheepishly.
"We will finish today."
Gustavo watched us, wearing his cute daily sweater.
"Ms. Barrett is much younger than you." he said, peacefully.
I cringed. Shit, am I really so old looking? I reminded myself that he was seven, didn't know that he had totally crushed my spirit, and that Ms. Barrett really was young and beautiful.
"Kavi," I called during dismissal, "I owe you...."
I released a couple of candies into his hand. I gave them to the kids after they finished the hours long, standardized test. I watched him when he stood up from the tornado and saw him pull the candy from his pocket that I had given him that day. It was melted and flat.
He fist pumped me and took the candy from my hand. He promptly turned and gave one of them to the student behind him.
He was wearing his same outerwear the he has on everyday, but underneath, he had on a long-sleeved red shirt, for Valentine's Day.
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