Pee

"Teachers, please allow students to enter class late.  We have an eighteen wheeler broken down in the carpool lane."

"I am starving." I mentioned to Abe as I sat in my corner in the stairwell, watching children climb the stairs.  I tried to see the eighteen wheeler through the window, but I was not on the right side of the building. 
"Here!" he said, digging through his lunch box.
"No Abe, no, really, I can't take your lunch."
He continued digging.
"Take it," he instructed, "really, I'm fine, I don't need it."  He had produced a chocolate and coconut Kashi granola bar. 
"No Abe, really, I can't.  But thank you.  Really, thank you.  You are really generous."

"Cabinet members:  our meeting has been moved to the Media Center because of a bad smell.  I repeat:  Meeting moved because of smell."

Robert climbed the stairs with a small line of kids trailing him like ducklings following their leader. 
"Hey Mr. Weiland, looks like they are going to keep the toilets on today!"  I called in way of greeting.
A large, fake smile spread across his face.
"Guess what kids!"  he exclaimed brightly.
"We get to go pee today!"

I sat in our office during my planning, staring at the flowers online. 
"She used to have these stilts...." my sister told me a day earlier.
"She could really move in them, she could like, run all over their backyard on them.  Her hair would just be flying in the wind....she was so....free."
I bought the most brightly colored flowers I could find because they looked like her.  I didn't want stupid white flowers that looked like death.

I sat in the office while a nurse extracted my blood.  After what seemed like a long time, I watched the clock to see how many minutes it was taking.  It was nearly one additional minute before I heard the click of the removed vial and the click of the second vial.  I thought of my mother and my sister racing against the clock to get halfway across the country for the funeral.  I heard another click.

"Wow," the nurse said, relieved.
"You have the smallest veins I have ever worked on.  I didn't think I would ever get it all out.  I'm sorry, but you are going to have black bruising."
"No problem, thank you."
"No!  Thank you!  Have a great day now!"

Stayin' Alive

"She has rocks in her mouth!" my neighbor's child yelled to her mom from the backyard. 
"The dog always does!  Honey...watch out for poo...." she called in return. 
"I have boots on!" the child answered.
"But honey....I really don't want your poo boots in my car.....".

"We will begin dismissing students now.  Students:  stay in your classrooms until you are called".
It was 11:30 in the morning.  The water in most of the city was off because of a huge water pipe break.
"Have you seen the bathrooms?" another teacher whispered to me.
"No, I had no idea anything was going on".
"I have to pee so bad I am about to piss my pants.  I went in there and IT IS DISGUSTING".
"The adult restrooms?"
"YES.  The adult restrooms.  Pee everywhere, on the seat, on the floors, everywhere".
Jesus, people, keep it together.
Our school has over seven hundred elementary-aged students.  Their parents received a robocall and email blast to come and get their kids.  Though it was only a water issue, things were about to be wild.

"PELO!" Oliver called, staring at the red streak in my hair.
"PELO!"
"Yes!  Yes, you are right!"
He drifted off, staring fixedly at my hair.

"His name is Brad.  He's in fourth grade.  I don't know who his teacher is".
"Look, I'm the neighbor, his mom asked me to come and get him, she's at work".
"I'm a grandpa!  I don't know which class she is in!"
Large groups of adults were arriving and crowding in.  Some knew exactly where their kids were and waited patiently, others became frustrated when we couldn't get their kids to them fast enough.  Many friends and family had been sent to pick up kids.  Some had no idea what grade or class the kid was in.  Soon older brothers and sisters from the high school began walking up, sent to pick up their siblings. People were leaving their cars in the middle of the street.  
"We are NOT going to be here tomorrow" a teacher whispered.
"There is no way, the can't fix this thing before tomorrow".

Oliver looked at me and rubbed his cheek.  I rubbed mine in response, did I have something on my face?
"Chica!" he shrieked and giggled.
"CHICA!"
I laughed too.  

As I walked down the sidewalk the following morning, I heard the faint beats of "Stayin' Alive".  I had partied down in anticipation of having the day off and what do you know....the water got fixed!  As I approached the school, "Stayin' Alive" got louder.  It was dark and parents waited in their cars with their kids until we opened the doors.  It was cold.  A man and his daughter sat emotionless in a car with the Bee Gees blaring.  One of them rolled down a window.

"Well you can tell by the way I use my walk....." the Bee Gees sang, followed by extreme falsettos, a driving bass line and a bunch of "ah ah ahs". The parking lot was filled with the beat as students and teachers strutted to the music at just a little after seven in the morning.  

Welcome to the Jungle

"Abe, you must be freezing." I called to the short sleeve wearing boy that was mounting the stairs while the weather was, like, arctic.  I was seated at my post in the corner of the stairwell, watching kids climb the stairs and later in the afternoon, I would watch kids go down the stairs. 
"No.  I am HYPOsensitive to weather."  he replied.
"So you're like, really sensitive?"
"NO.  Hyposensitive means I am not effected by weather."
"Oh, okay."
"One of my moms covers me in jackets whenever I go outside.  It is horrible."  Abe continued.
"And the thing is, I have TWO moms, so it is even worse."
"So, do you think dads are not as worried about stuff like that?"
"Definitely.  See you later." he said, with a surprise little side hug before climbing another flight of stairs. 

I drove my cranky car to the shop with my sister tailing me in Alec's car.  My coach has been making horrible noises for a while.  It sounds like the wheels are going to fall off.  I have been driving Alec's car for about a month.  I like his car.  It is a nine year old silver Honda hybrid.  I feel like I'm riding in style and that I look professional in this efficient, tidy car. 

"We have a new student!" a student announced.
"Hey, what's your name?"  I asked.
"Enya."
"And where did you go to school before you came here?"
"Azerbaijan."
Uh, okay.
"Wow.  How do you speak such perfect English?"
"Oh, I was born in the U.S.; I have just lived in Azerbaijan for a really long time!"
"Awesome!  What um, brought you over there?"
"My parents worked there."
"And what do they do?"
"They work for the CDC."
"Oh, you will be right at home here." I told her, relieved.  I looked around the room as the children of the MERS doctors, the Ebola doctors, the SARS doctors, the EVERY SCARY DISEASE doctors, smiled and nodded at her. 

"Ms. Hilary, I would like you to meet my student teacher, Ms. Sherman."
"I know you......" she said, puzzled.
"I know you too...." I answered, trying to place from where.
"YOU WERE MY HIGH SCHOOL SPANISH TEACHER!"  she squealed.  The class started laughing.
"Leslie!  Ohhhhhh, you are going to be an elementary school teacher?!" I asked, delighted.
"I hope to be..." she said quietly. 
"Wow guys, that is crazy.  I feel one hundred years old!" I told the class.
"And you taught Conrad at his old school and here!" one answered.
"That's right, No Pants, I have a wide reach.  No one can escape me."

"I have a connection to the Central Idea." James informed me.
"Even though I celebrate Christmas, that doesn't show what I really believe because I'm an atheist."
I made the 'me too' symbol while he spoke.
"People say I can't do that, because I don't believe in Jesus.  But I think I can, it's fun, I spend time with my family, we just don't do the God stuff."
"I understand completely.  I am the same way."
"Really?"
"Yes."
He smiled secretively and walked away.

"Opera is my weakness!" Jonas exclaimed when I told him that the Atlanta Opera was giving a performance at our school THAT MORNING.  He approached me in my stairwell corner and smashed his head against my forehead.
"Look!  They are right there, in the Music room, getting warmed up."
We heard the characteristic fa-la-las from the room.
At 8:30 in the morning, I sat with my class as the group began an hour long opera session.  I don't think I have ever seen live opera before.  I was strangely excited.  As the lights dimmed, I felt relaxed.  I glanced over and saw Oliver smiling and clapping, though he was surrounded by hundreds of children.  I smiled and marveled at the fact that I was at work, and that I have a great job. 

I walked to Alec's car after dropping mine off.  Holly jumped from the driver's side as we switched seats.  I was shocked when I got in.  In a matter of seven minutes, the car had been transformed.   The seat was all of the way back in nearly a lying down position.  The heat was up full blast; it was over eighty degrees in there.  "Welcome to the Jungle" screamed from the radio.
"Don't worry," Holly informed me "I programed the station in." she stated with a little smirk.
"So, you taking me to the grocery?". 

La Shine

I surveyed the leg wear of one of my favorite students.  Though it is clearly winter,  Bashmal continues to wear shorts, with a strange patch work of socks that he pulls up to his knees, while adding a second, tube-like layer to cover the actual knee, that he pulls as far up his thigh as he can.  Together, this intricate mesh covers his entire leg, while still allowing him to NOT wear pants.  "What's up with this, Bashmal?" I asked.
"I don't like them.  I just don't like pants." he answered.
"You know, I kind of feel you.  I'm not much of a pants-wearer either."
"I've noticed.  You're a skirt-wearer."
"True.  They are more comfortable.  With tights."

Mo, my cart-carrying twerker, has managed to add yet another name to his list of aliases.  He does this crazy Spanglish thing where he entirely fucks up the vocabulary we are supposed to be using.   When learning the word for donkey, he began saying "el donkey" instead of "burro".  When learning the word for mouse, he randomly started saying "el mouse".  For weeks the students would call him by these names, obviously to his liking.  His latest is "la shine".  I think it has a ring to it.

I tore down the road with bags full of Hanukkah treats and a Christmas tree on the roof of Alec's car.  I wanted to beat him home and hit up Hanukkah by sundown and was also GODDAMN sick of traffic and sneezing and hacking with my three-day old elementary school cold.

I am the one that initiated all of these festivities.  Alec and I are both agnostics at best and probably atheists, to be honest.  I am the one who embraced his ethnic celebrations because I think it is fun to buy him eight little presents, each to be unveiled one by one, every evening for over a week.  I buy a tree because I am a fan of string lights and the way the tree smells.  Well, and the novelty.  How often do you have a relatively live tree sitting in your living room, covered in lights, instead of just the normal crap in there?  Only a couple of weeks a year...

"PANTS!  I'm wearing PANTS!" Oliver shrieked in the hallway, pulling his pants giddily to the left and the right in display while sailing down the stairs with his sideways tilted smile on his face.
"YES!"  I called, "Yes you are!"

"Where is Tyrone?"  I asked the class.  "He is absent again?  Is he sick, everyone is sick."
"Tyrone doesn't go to school here anymore." several students announced.
"WHAT?"
"He wasn't in-district."
"NO.  No..."
"He will be back.  His parents will find an apartment and he will be back...." Kimmie stated, rising from her chair. 

As I practically jogged through the hall to my next class, I caught sight of Bashmal.  He looked like a totally normal kid.  He was wearing a long sleeved yellow t-shirt and ...... pants.
"Bashmal.  WHAT are you wearing?" I asked, horrified.
"Pants.  I am wearing pants.  I just gave in.  It was getting too cold, the socks too thin.  I am just going to do it."
I felt my heart plummet as he walked away. 

I slammed on my breaks and nearly hit the car in front of me.  I saw the trunk of the Christmas tree shoot out and nearly sail off of the top of the car toward the car I was trying not to hit.  Fuck.  I kept driving, slowly.  It slid back a little.  I slowly drove home, fearing the thing was going to fly off.  When I got home, the garbage collection thing was in the middle of the driveway.  The tree mother fucker had tied me into the car and I couldn't get out to move it.  I drove forward, pushing the big Herbie in with the car and clawing my way through the strings so that I could exit the automobile.  The tree was basically hanging on the passenger side of the car, suspended by strings.   I went in inside.

Alec loved his first night of Hanukkah gift.  I let him enjoy it and waited, then mentioned casually,

"By the way, can you help me get Christmas tree off of the top of your car....?.".

A Day at the Salon

"I'm givin' you a SCALP MASSAGE!" Alicia sang in a throaty voice, tinged with vibrato.  
How did this happen?
It began with Holly, randomly sidling up during the fly swatter game.
"Would you like a massage?" she asked, grinning.
"Why of course." I responded, thinking it might be funny.
Funny it was.
The little girl karate-chopped my back and squished my shoulders, all while I tried to judge the fly swatter game. 
Alicia rose up soon after, asking primly if I would like a "scalp massage".
"Oh okay, wow, I feel like I am at the spa."
Soon it turned into Holly giving me a 'massage', which was actually making me melt into the chair and Alicia singing her tune loudly while pulling my hair up into a tall snarl.  And kids hitting the whiteboard with fly swatters while I yelled out things in Spanish.
I looked behind me and four girls stood in a row, each 'massaging' each others shoulders.
'Please don't let me get observed, please don't let me get observed' I thought, as I giggled at the freak scene around me. 
And, it was only my first class of the day.

"How do you, you know, make friends with people?" Tyrone asked me, after pulling me out into the hall during class.  His head twitched a little to the right.
I wondered what he meant, did he mean when he sidled up to Kimmie and asked her if she wanted to
'be his friend' or just like, making friends in general?
"Well, you just sort of hang out with them, play Four Square or something and see who appeals to you."
"But how do you ask them to be friends?" he responded, eyebrows furrowed and again, a strange pull on his lower lip, sucking it into his mouth.
"Well, you don't have to make it official, people just know."
"What does official mean?"
"Well like, you don't have to ask.  You just hang around with the people you like hanging out with and that enjoy being around you too."
He looked confused.

He had been separating himself in the cafeteria.  At first he said it was because of Kimmie and would sit with tears in his eyes alone at a table.  Now he said that he didn't know how to approach any of the kids.

"So....," Fulton informed me, leaning in, eyes glowing, "we went to Toledo.  There was a lot of snow."
"Why did you go to Toledo?"
"Well, my Grandma broke her neck." he responded, emotionless.  

"The facial ticks, the inability to read, I don't know how to tell his parents that he needs to see a doctor without getting sued.  He is not getting ANY services." his teacher informed me, exasperated.
"NONE?  He's not getting reading support, special ed anything?  He is GENERAL ED?"  I asked, feeling my own eyes about to get wet.
"Correct." she answered.  

"Where's Oliver?" I heard his parapro ask the secretary.  It was after the bell.
"I think I see him right now."
I heard the door open.  Numerous voices greeted him.  Everyone loves Oliver, believe me.  I am not the only fan.

"They finally got him to a doctor.  He has a neurological disorder and is on a first grade reading level.  There is no way this disorder popped up over night.  Why wasn't it diagnosed before?  Was it there before or did he have a head injury?!"  The teacher's eyes were bulging.
"Please tell me the wheels are rolling now.  He may not be special ed.  His injury or syndrome might be impairing his ability to learn.  He needs a 504, we need accommodations....."  I was prattling on now too, anxious. 

"Good morning, Oliver." I heard our principal greet.
"Answer him, Oliver." his parapro, Marsha, instructed.
"Running late this morning?" our principal continued.
"YES." Oliver responded in his characteristic flat, yet emphatic way.
"Why don't you go eat some breakfast before going to class."
"ATE."
"Okay, why don't you just take a second then to wash your face and hands before heading up."
"OKAY."

"I'm givin' you a SCALP MASSAGE!" ran through my head like a jingle of a commercial.  My co-worker Michelle

and I combed over the IB website, after the kids had been dismissed. 
"I have one last announcement."
Oh no, there are never announcements after school.
"Looks like we are having a little plumbing work done and the water is going to be shut off for a few hours.  I would like to advise you to......."
Go to the bathroom, fast?
"HEAD HOME."

S.O.S.

"I'm not sure what I am going to do with all of this vacation time...."
"Maybe Steve will let you meet Son of Sam."
"Right!  There is no way Steve would share him with us."
Our friend Steve had struck up a friendship with Son of Sam.  He was being held close to Steve's job in downtown Atlanta and the two had taken to eating lunch together several times a week.
In my mind's eye, I seemed to remember seeing Steve and Son of Sam lunching at an outdoor eatery.  Steve was speaking intently about something and Son of Sam looked exactly as he had upon capture, crazy eyes and all, while listening to Steve at the outdoor table.

I watched Oliver walk across the lunch room.  He saw me watching him and carefully pressed his curly hair closer to his head, then entered the lunch line.

"Teachers!  I want you to pick one student from your class that really knows how to shake it," the performer of the assembly announced, "and really knows how to follow directions."
My eyes gazed on Mo, the boy who had been caught twerking in class and had taken my giant cart full of dictionaries on a tour of the school, including an elevator ride and a trip down the stairs, when simply asked to carry a box of dictionaries from the cart to the classroom.  The class started screaming when I picked him.
"You picked the opposite!" a girl howled.
"I know" I said, feeling wicked.  Mo did look hilarious when he danced around and I was dying to see what would happen with him on the stage. 

I woke up.
"Alec," I said, giggling.  Though it was the middle of the night I knew he was awake.
"I had a dream that Steve was friends with David Berkowitz.  I don't know why but we never used his name in the dream, just called him Son of Sam.  I remember when I was waking up wondering how Son of Sam was able to just check in and out of jail to go out to lunch with Steve.  It was never established how the met either....."
I heard Alec laughing into his pillow.  Lola rolled over and huffed. 

Mo was easily the funniest kid up there, insane facial expressions and hilarious dance moves.  When asked to imitate his teacher playing soccer, I became nervous.

Mo smoothed his short hair down as if it was the length of mine, gave a few head flips and dramatically kicked an imaginary soccer ball, all while shaking around like a model on a runway.

It was a great way to start a Monday. 

Mother of Disposable Sons

I am hosting Thanksgiving this year, at my home, like a grown up.

I slowly drove up to the Farmer's Market.  Yes, the DeKalb County Farmer's Market, on the day before Thanksgiving.  I knew it was a mistake and resigned myself to my punishment. 

I read over the morning news and then felt awkward when I read Facebook.
A black friend posted:  "Jury of nine whites and three blacks, it only took nine to dismiss."  I don't usually call her a 'black friend'.  I normally call her Renee.  But I knew right now I was only a white person to her.  
I crawled under my chair when a 'white friend' posted a Chris Rock video that mocked how "not to get your ass kicked".  It entailed not breaking the law and not acting like a thug, as if that is the reason why black men are incarcerated or killed.  Chris Rock can say whatever he wants, but I was appalled to see a 'white friend' that I normally call Bridget, share the video a day after, you know, what happened.
A 'black friend' posted a story about a 'white' neighbor that chased down a 'black' person for stealing something off of his porch.  "We must educate our children!" the 'black' friend preached, a day after, you know, what happened.  Because, yeah really, 'education' is the problem. 
A 'white friend' that I normally call Brenda posted a meme of a looter with a caption that read:  "Steal a belt".  What a take away.  That really sums it all up.   And, a day after it happened. 
A 'black friend' that I normally call Dina put up a one line statement:  "I am the mother of disposable sons".

A man walked threw the Market with a pile of pizzas in his arms.  He definitely had the right idea.  

I watched the immigrants that staff the Farmer's Market move and shake and socialize with each other.  A variety of languages shot out of their mouths, Arabic, Amharic, etc.  I could only imagine what their thin bodies and narrow limbs thought of our gluttonous holiday.

"Ask yourself, people, ask yourself!  Where is the eggnog?" a women chanted by the dairy section of Kroger.   

I walked out, heaving my cart onto the grass and leaving it there, only to see a pizza ad under my windshield wiper.

"Next year," I thought, "next year."