Up the Down Staircase

by Bel Kaufman

  Yet I am about to quit.

  Am I but another dropout?

  I think of new kids that will come and go, card after card in the Delaney Book, dropping without a ripple out of sight. The same kids, but with different names, making the same mistakes in the same way. I think how little anyone can do, even with love, especially with love. And I long for Willowdale. (Those windows! Those windows with trees in them!) I think I’m not so special after all.

  I will have time, as I lie here alone with my fifth metatarsal, to do a lot more thinking.

  They’ve just brought me a stack of mail from school.

  Write me c/o the hospital. (I haven’t told Mother or anyone at home of my accident.) Let me know if my electric rabbit reached Suzie in time for the tree, and how your eggnog recipe turned out. And a very merry Xmas!

  Love,

  Syl

  P.S. What statistics can I give you?

  Did you know that the median age for female accidents in the schools is 48.2? And that the accidents occur mostly on the stairs?

  I don’t seem to fit.

  S.

  Greetings on your illness and best wishes for coming back soon. This sub we made her so miserable I bet she’ll never show up around here again. While she’s having histerics in the office we’re all passing around this Round Robbin in rows alphabetically even though a lot of us are absent, to tell you your method of teaching was fair and square. If there is anything I can possibly do about it I would do it. Have a Happy New Year always.

  Frank Allen

  Elizabeth Elis said we should sign our real names to show that you thaught us to have the courage of our convinctions. So here goes. A man’s reach should exeed his gasp is a statement true to life and I am using it daily. This proves your lessons sunk in and you didn’t drum it into our heads for nothing. Hoping you will get well soon and enthuse about books once more.

  Andrew Alvarez

  (Use to sign Anonimus)

  Some one told us a terrible rumor that you’re not coming back to us. We miss you something terrible. Even tho it’s just before Xmas the whole class can’t enjoy it. Please please come back & I’ll do anything for you, even read a Julius Ceasar.

  Janet Amdur

  A Xmas present doesn’t have to be only a thing. It can also be by telling you how you helped us this term, which is what we decided to do. How you helped me is in giving me a liking for school which I previously lacked. It’s awful you got hurt but they say you’ll be OK soon. If Alice was in front of me she would sign her name too so I’ll sign for her.

  A Merry Xmas from Carole Blanca

  and

  Alice Blake

  I refuse to sign this robin.

  Poisen

  Excuse my english if I would of studied harder I could now be riting you a nice letter like the others, if you can read my riting you would know your class was my happist time of life.

  Real name Marvin Chertock

  I can’t believe you’re not coming back. School wouldn’t be school without you. Every time you came into the room (304) I always looked you over, no offence I hope. When I told my friends about you they all envied me. You don’t make the subject too confusing, also not too hard on the eyes, which adds to my knowledge. Myself and my whole family is praying for your speedy recovery to English.

  Gary Daniels

  (A Bashful Nobody. Now you know!)

  Some things can’t be expressed in words. Even though I want to be a writer, I know this. But I think you know what I mean when I say only “Thank you”.

  Elizabeth Ellis

  You and Roseanne (my imaginary twin sister) are my only friends and both beautifull to look at. Don’t let anything Bad happen to you in the hospital. When I used to have my other English classes I used to have those excrushiating headaches. But since you, I don’t mind if they give me English 20 times a day and I mean it.

  Your Admireress

  Francine Gardner

  Though I made a funny face when you said you would read poetry I really disliked it. In case I don’t see you in person, I hope they can save your foot, I knew some one (R.L.) who got into a foot accident and is on cruches.

  I used to sign Guess Who–did you guess who?

  Rachel Gordon?

  I wish you a complete cure and New Years. You gave me a deeper understanding of people like Pygmallion and others.

  Sam Harper

  (Formally I signed )

  You are my most memorial teacher, you teach a subject as fast as it can enter and stay put in the brain. And you’re a person with a good sense of humor and a touch of teacherly love.

  Jerry Hyams, former Cutter

  To Miss Barrett, who helped me in education as well as my personal and business life, best wishes of the season.

  Harry A. Kagan

  (The Students Future Choice)

  Now it can be told, that’s who I am!

  I want to join this r. robin to tell you how I feel. You are like the gems in the ocean. I’ll tell my children about you and my days with you. My motto is “never forget”. The day is dragging out without you but you made the period fly like wings, even a long Home Room like this. Even the way you dressed made everything clearer and up to date. For the rest of my life I will try to grab higher than my reach.

  Ronnie

  Your not as bad as them.

  Yr Freind

  Use to be Yr Emeny S. Marino

  A Happy Holiday! And Yuletide! A Happy New Year! And many more Happy Returns of English! You’re the first teacher that got something into this wooden head of mine, Ha-ha! “This was the most unkindliest cut of all” (when you left us) I’m quoting from your boyfriend Shakesper (Jul. Caeser) in case you don’t know! So get well right away! And come back healthful and happy to teach us some more things! Now how you helped me–I don’t horse around so much, though I still do. Sometimes!

  Lou Martin

  If God only makes you well I would never again be unprepaired (Homework). I didn’t mean it when I was writting those things in the Sug. Box. From the first day when I fell off my seat (remember?) I fell for you but couldn’t show it.

  I still hate females but not you. This goes for me and the whole class including 16 who are absent. You can come back. But I don’t know if I will.

  Rusty O’Brien

  How you helped me was you didn’t try to act like a King.

  Doodlebug

  Jill Norris

  Calvin Coolidge’s New Year could be happy if only you return to teach us again. I never met any one like you in my whole life. I awaited every tomorrow just to see what you were going to wear or do. You made me come out of my shell to a size 14. My sister is size 11 but she’s got skinny legs. I will love you till the day I die.

  Vivian Paine

  They hogging the entire paper. I want to say is I complaned a lot. but I didn’t know how lucky I was to have you. until we got this jerky sub. she don’t know a thing and she’s trying to teach it.

  Disgusted

  Miguel Rios

  I would swim accross the Chanel like “Hero and Leander” just to see you teaching again. And that’s no “myth”, it’s the truth. “Merry Xmas” and Love

  Chas. H. Robbins

  (I can now write without having quotion marks pile all over me and I’m trying to not think about the “atom bomb”. I hope this makes you feel better in the hospital.)

  C. H. R.

  1. How You Helped Me

  A. Apreciation of Life

  1. The Road Taken

  a. (choice)

  2. Julius Ceaser

  a. (was Brutus right?)

  3. Spelling (Improved 99%)

  4. Browning (a man reaching high)

  5. Letters of the alphabet put together make up all lit.

  B. I often think of these problems

  2. Merry Xmas!

  Teenager

  Alias Ricky Roche

  You helped me with
better knowlege also respect. You gave me a push to take out a Librarry Card and get more meanings from my readings. You have been as wonderful as my own mother to me and I loved my mother very much while she was here. I guess I love you just about the same. You are the neatest teacher in the school.

  Love and Xmas

  Jose Rodriguez

  Don’t think me unscrupulous but I feel towards you like a friend. You tried to make even Shakesp. understandable. Also I dress more conservitive, I wear my eyelashes only on dates now.

  Maybe it’s none of my bussiness but you are young and I hope you don’t make teaching a profession. I would like to see you married soon so you would take care of your husband and children, teaching takes everything out of your life. If you stay home and raise a familly you will be very happy and you will see your husband quite often.

  Linda Rosen

  A hospitle teaches you a good lesson. Only it’s worst for the color people. Like today I was marked late even if it’s almost Xmas. Is that fair? No mater what I do I’m always the last one, I’m next to the last one to sign this sheet.

  Edward Williams, Esq.

  If you read this and I hope you do you will know I’m crazy about you and if I ever did anything to show the opposite I’m sorry. It may surprize you because I kept quiet and never even wrote in the Suggestion Box but I want you to know more than anything how I think you’re the most beautiful person I ever met as a teacher. I have to leave you to find a job next term but maybe I’ll catch a glimmer of you sometimes as I don’t live too far away, having looked up where you live.

  Katherine Wolzow

  December 24

  Dear Ellen,

  It is Xmas Eve and here I lie, with my elevated plaster foot partly obstructing the funereal flower arrangement from the Teachers’ Interest Committee on the hospital bureau in front of me, and papers piled up on the bed. Papers from the Board (which still doesn’t know my sex); from Willowdale; from my colleagues; from Finch; from McHabe; Accident Reports; Absence Refund slips; End of Term sheets–papers to fill out, papers to check off, papers to sign, papers to countersign, papers to notarize, papers to mail and papers to file.

  I feel quite at home.

  The hospital allows its semi-private patients two visitors a day. Bea has been in and out. McHabe was here for a few uneasy moments to pay a duty call. He kept looking at his watch and waiting for the dismissal bell, I think. Paul came with a clever parody of Ezra Pound in many cantos. He’s begun a new novel–about a nuclear physicist marooned on a peninsula: in Kamchatka, I believe. That’s in Russia. Or maybe Asia. Each of my classes delegated one student to visit me.

  My homeroom sent me a round robin of appreciation and revelation: a kid who all term signed himself “The Hawk” turned out to be a tiny, scared-looking boy given to outbursts of enthusiasm; my “emeny” is now my “freind”; and I have not passed through 304 unnoticed.

  My English 5 presented me with a gift on which they must have lavished much love and thought and chipped-in money. It’s in such bad taste that it moved me almost to tears: a shining chrome ashtray or candy dish with glass grapes.

  My English 33 SS (my super-slows, my under-achievers, my non-academics) have composed a ballad for me which they are transcribing in India ink on a special scroll and which I am to receive shortly.

  Not a word from Ferone.

  Thank you for your eloquent letter. I’d like to think you’re right, but I have learned my limitations and my private failures. It was the idea of teaching, the idea of kids that I’d been in love with. I didn’t really listen; not even when their parents, on Open School day, tried to tell me; not even when the children themselves, in their own words, said so much more than their words on paper said. Not until I had come face to face with one boy.

  Bea has a way of knowing. She listens to her feelings; that’s why for her it’s simple. And Grayson–for him it’s simple too. But I, Sylvia Barrett–what mark do I get? “A” for Effort.

  “A man’s reach should exceed his grasp” I once taught. This implies the inevitability of frustration. Not to lower my sights, not to compromise; to accept the “challenge,” to keep fighting, to find rewards even in failure because failure is due to aiming too high; not to give up, for all the leather chairs in Willowdale.

  It is too much to ask.

  “Sauve qui peut,” Paul once– –

  I hear visitors at the door– –

  To be continued– –

  Bea just left. She brought news of the latest legislation: future Faculty Shows have been outlawed. All school entrances, with the exception of the main one, will be locked “except when in use.” Vigilance of patrol will be redoubled. It was suggested–but vetoed–that all visitors to school be frisked. The auditorium was to be used for assemblies only. The pagoda was scrapped.

  I asked about the kids. Eddie Williams is definitely dropping out, as are several others. Jose Rodriguez is staying. So is Vivian Paine. She wants to be an English teacher, and a high school diploma is a prerequisite. Bea didn’t know about Rusty or Ferone.

  I don’t know about Ferone either. He may be my most spectacular failure, or my one real success. If he drops out, I may never know.

  “What else is happening in school?” I asked.

  “Life is happening there. That’s where life is,” she said. It was shameless propaganda. She is still trying to dissuade me from leaving.

  It’s not fair. I admit my ambivalence–when I reread the round robin, when I look at the ugly chrome and glass candy dish, when I think of their faces.

  I have learned how vulnerable I am.

  But I must look realistically at the future. Perhaps I’m not equal to what awaits me at Calvin Coolidge. Unless I stop caring. Until, one day, I find myself punching in with indifference, punching out with relief. Until I become as bitter as Loomis, as plaintive as Mary, nursing my grievances and varicose veins.

  At Willowdale, I have a chance to be “mine own woman.”

  If I choose to remain at Coolidge, then Clarke may justly, on his End of Term Report, call me “loony”!

  In the meantime, Willowdale is waiting for clearance on my resignation from the Board and for a letter from Dr. Clarke–a mere formality. I am waiting for a “Dear Sir or Madam, Resignation accepted” letter. No regret, no gratitude, just “Resignation accepted”; that, I understand, is the usual form the Board sends.

  And, of course, I am waiting for a letter from you. I shall be here at the hospital for another week or two; after that I’ll take my metatarsal home in a “walking cast” till the end of the term.

  Remember me in your wassail, and–to quote a student for the last time–may you have a Happy New Year always!

  Love,

  Syl

  P.S. Did you know that teachers have been resigning from the New York City school system at the rate of approximately a thousand a year?

  S.

  BOARD OF EDUCATION OF THE

  CITY OF NEW YORK

  DEAR SIR OR MADAM:

  IN REPLY TO YOUR REQUEST FOR RESIGNATION, PLEASE BE ADVISED THAT YOURS WAS FILLED OUT IMPROPERLY.

  YOU MUST OBTAIN THE PROPER FORM FROM THE OFFICE OF TENURE AND APPOINTMENTS.

  * * *

  January 5

  Dear Miss Barrett,

  We at Willowdale are looking forward to having you with us in the February semester. As you know, your appointment is contingent upon your resignation from the Board of Education and a letter from your principal. We have not as yet received either communication. Would you be kind enough to let us know the reason for the delay?

  Most cordially,

  Robert S. Corbin

  Dept. of English and

  Comparative Lit.

  P. S. There is every likelihood that a Chaucer seminar will be formed, open to eight students majoring in English.

  * * *

  Dear Miss Barrett,

  I am sending you to the hospital: Circulars #42 and #43 on Teacher�
��s Welfare. Please fill out Accident Reports A and B and the forms Miss Finch is sending you under separate cover, and mail them back at once, with witness or witnesses to the accident.

  James J. McHabe

  Adm. Asst.

  We miss you.

  JJ MCH

  * * *

  Jan. 5

  Dear Syl–

  I’m glad you’re up and hobbling, and that you’ll be out of the hospital soon. You looked wonderful when I saw you last week–rested and relaxed. Little wonder.

  School is the usual post-holiday bedlam. One forgets, when one has been out of it for a while, the pettiness, the fever and the fret; then swiftly, in a day or two, one is sucked in again! Right now we’re in the midst of final reports and entries. Once more the library is closed to the kids; once more we poke and scratch in the PRC’s.