Commencement

by Lawrence Cherry

“Should I use the plain blue border or the ‘kids playing’ border?” Tamiko asked herself. She was standing on a chair in front of the children’s coat closet in the classroom. Her classroom. Today was Tamiko’s first day at work as a first grade teacher at the Great Expectations School, a Pre-K to 6 school located in one of Manhattan’s poorest districts. Technically, she didn’t have to report today, but Tamiko was nervous and wanted to get a head start on arranging her classroom.

  First, she had to find out where everything was. When Tamiko arrived, the closets were a hodge-podge of assorted odds and ends. Construction paper was in one closet, but writing paper in another. The arts and crafts and math manipulatives were hidden in the same cubby hole of the teacher’s desk which was in the center of the room. There seemed to be no particular system applied to warehousing the teaching materials she had at her disposal. It seemed as if the last teacher who had the classroom put things away in a haphazard manner before running off for summer vacation. Tamiko would have to re-arrange her closet spaces to make more sense later.

  Earlier, Tamiko had been working to create her teaching space/morning meeting area, a wide space at the head of the classroom near the window, where her mini-lesson rug and morning meeting board would be. Then she went to work on the children’s workspaces, arranging the tables in the room. Each table would have a designated color. There would be a red table, a blue table and a yellow table. The tables were actually manila, so she would have to make up signs for each table in the appropriate colors. She also used some short bookcases for her literacy centers, which, by regulation of the Department Of Education, had to be in different parts of the room. Each table was to have its own corresponding literacy center where the children could find paper, pencils, and other things they needed to write stories. Now she was putting up the paper and borders for the bulletin boards. Tamiko decided on doing this sooner than later because she thought it would be a simple task that could be done quickly. However, with all the measuring and cutting of paper and the stapling and choosing colors, it seemed to take an inordinate amount of time. Finally, Tamiko decided on the “kids playing” border, and began to staple it hastily to the bulletin boards. As Tamiko was stapling, she went over in her head all of the other things that she had to do before the opening day of school. There was the behavior chart, the five crates of books in the children’s coat closet that would need to be sorted into some sort of library, decisions on where to put the big books, and the word walls. The children’s home/school mail boxes needed to be labeled and math centers would have to made, not to mention lesson plans. Then there were the million other things she couldn’t think of right now, but would turn up in the course of her work. All of this made her appreciate the relative quiet of the nearly empty school. She would only have two more days before more teachers came, and three more days before the students arrived for their first day of school.

  So far, only seven out of the 40 teachers employed by the school were present and working on their classrooms. It was just the six lead teachers for each grade and her. So far, Tamiko had only met them in passing and they all seemed to be nice enough. She had met Charity Fontaine, the tall, effervescent kindergarten lead teacher from Ohio; Grace Weaver, the third grade lead teacher, who seemed very analytical. Then there were the others, all quite reserved, who she couldn’t remember, however, there was one teacher who seemed a little aloof. Tamiko would never forget walking into her classroom. She had all of the lights off, and Tamiko would have backed away, but then she saw her sitting in a corner of the room where the library was, meticulously cutting out labels. She was an older, heavy-set, white woman with dark hair pinned up in a bun. When Tamiko introduced herself, the woman didn’t even bother looking up from what she was doing. Instead, she just said a brief “Hello, nice to meet you” and barely cracked a smile the whole time. Tamiko understood that all of the teachers that were in the building were busy, but she could have been a little friendlier. Tamiko would find out from one of the other teachers that her name was Rosalyn Steele, and that she was an “odd ball”, who had been working at the school for ten years, four of which she had been a first grade lead teacher. The idea that such a personality would be observing her and taking charge of her professional development, made Tamiko feel a little uneasy. “Maybe, we just need time to get to know each other and break the ice”, Tamiko thought optimistically to herself while giving this woman the benefit of the doubt.

  Right now everyone was preoccupied with her classroom. This preoccupation or rather obsession is particular for teachers for several reasons. First, the set up of the room determines how one’s year will go. If materials and supplies are in short order, or are in difficult to reach areas, and if there is no sense of preparation, the natural result will be disorder and chaos. Children tend to naturally follow adults as their leaders, however, if the adult and the surroundings are disorganized, it naturally causes the children to question and subsequently undermine the authority of the adult. Tamiko also knew the children she would be dealing with had enough problems of their own at home, and some may have behavior problems. A disordered and unorganized classroom was just asking for those behavior problems to manifest themselves. In addition, the classroom is an organic instrument to the teacher, and serves as one of the teacher’s primary teaching tools. Bulletin boards teach pride in one’s work and self-esteem, behavior charts teach self-control and delayed gratification. And there would be copious amounts of information displayed everywhere in the room to make children’s learning easier. Finally, the Principal and other administrators always judged what was going on in the classroom by the look of the room itself. Miss Steele’s room was absolutely immaculate, she remembered. Tamiko wished she had taken better mental note of the room, but she was so blown away by Steele’s attitude that she didn’t get the chance. There was no way Tamiko was going back there again. She’d wait until after the professional development on Thursday, when she would have a better sense of what she was like.

  An unexpected knock at the door, almost caused Tamiko to fall off her chair.

  “Come in!” Tamiko called out.

  It was the Mrs. Nettlenerves, the assistant-principal. Mrs. Nettlenerves was a petite, red-haired woman who talked and walked as if she drank coffee like water. Even when Tamiko was interviewing for the position, she had to ask her to repeat some of the questions because she spoke so fast.

  “Hi, Tamiko!”

  “Hello, Mrs. Nettlenerves.”

  “I’m just doing a little informal walk through to see how things are going. I must say you’ve gotten a lot of work done. It looks great. I love that color for the boards and the border is just to die for.”

  “Oh, Thank…”

  “Tomorrow, some of our school aides are coming in and they will begin handing out starter supplies. You know: crayons, paper, pencils, construction paper, chart paper, glue sticks, color pencils, all those types of things, so don’t think you’ll have to buy everything yourself. If you’ve already bought some that’s okay, because most teachers run out by the December break, and you may need them because the wait time for Mary to re-order can be a bit long, especially if there’s not enough down in the basement. Now, there’s a checklist that you’re going to get along with your supplies, so don’t put any of them away until you’ve completed your checklist. You’ll get your checklist at the professional development meeting on Thursday. And I know you’re probably wondering about your class set up, well there’s a checklist for our new teachers that you’re going to get regarding that as well. It’s basically a checklist of all the things that we are looking for in our teacher’s classrooms. You look concerned.”

  “I…”

  “There’s really nothing to be worried about. It’s not that we want the classrooms to look the same, like they came out of a cookie cutter or anything. Believe me we don’t want to hamper your creativity or originality, but we have high standards and based on those standards the teachers at this school have agreed that ther
e are certain elements that should be a part of every classroom. You probably have most of them already and they are standard to teaching. Like I don’t know any classroom that doesn’t have a word wall, or literacy centers, or a math word wall. It’s things like that, that a smart girl like you probably already knows about, so there’s not going to be any big surprises. That must make you feel better, right?”

  “Sure, uh….”

  “Well, so far, the room looks fabulous. Keep up the good work. Oh, and before I forget, on Thursday, we are going to have a breakfast in the staff lounge in the morning. It’s like our little tradition to get everyone off to a good start. There will be bagels, juice, coffee, pastries, and all sorts of goodies like that. I know you’ll be here early, so don’t get so busy that you miss it. It’s a great opportunity to mix with the other teachers and get to know them and pick their brains for ideas. If you have any questions or anything hold them ‘till Thursday, and I promise you everything will be answered then. O.K? See you then!” she said as she hastened out of the door and down the hall.

  “See, ya”, Tamiko said to the empty space where the assistant-principal had been.

  Tamiko was surprised that she was able to get all of that out in such few breaths. She seemed kind and friendly enough, but there was something about her manner that made Tamiko a bit wary. Like the way she tried to give everything a frivolous and light air. And often she spoke so fast, it almost seemed as if she didn’t want you to get the full import of what she was saying. Kind of like a used car salesman, who is trying to sell you a really big lemon.

  Despite Mrs. Nettlenerves light-hearted banter, Tamiko was concerned about these checklists. It just seemed like a sign of distrust. And why would there be distrust if the teachers were professionals and did their jobs? Tamiko decided to shake off all of her misgivings. “After all, I just got here”, Tamiko thought. “I have to give things time to play out before I judge things.” That’s what she had learned from the scripture she had read last night. After all didn’t the Apostle Paul say that we should judge nothing before the time.1 The words seemed poignant to her, since Tamiko often jumped to conclusions on a regular basis. It was something she was working on in her walk with God. Tamiko had always been a religious person, but only recently had she become a real Christian. This came about after an experience she had during the early years of her college career, in which she felt that God was calling her to teach.

  Tamiko would never forget that day during registration, when she had to finally declare her major. She had been praying for what seemed like months about it, wavering between education and sociology. She had always felt particularly passionate about education, especially as a member of the African-American community. The education system here in America was failing so many students of African descent, especially, the young men. Tamiko felt that she just had to do something, and thought about a career in social work. Then while she was waiting to be seen by her advisor, it was like she could hear His voice speaking directly to her. She chose education, and things had been smooth sailing ever since. Tamiko got extra motivation out of nowhere, and breezed through her classes. Her supervising teacher glowed about her student teaching skills and she got an A in the practicum. Right out of college, she landed a job with this school that every new teacher wanted to get into, and she got accepted to the prestigious Bank Street College of Education to earn her masters degree. It seemed like God was blessing her all around, so she had to be on the right track. Best of all, Tamiko loved teaching, and she knew that in this profession she would be able to have a direct impact on the educational outcomes of the children she wanted to reach. Although it is the most tired cliché in the profession, Tamiko really did want to make a difference in children’s lives the way her teachers had done for her. After all, she would not have been a college graduate or a graduate school student if she had not had teachers that cared. Tamiko knew she could be a catalyst of change in her students’ lives. This was her calling. God meant for it to be. She saw herself eventually rising through the ranks from teacher, to lead teacher, to coach, to assistant principal, then principal, then an upper level administrator capable of making great changes in the ways children, particularly inner city children, were being educated.

  In the course of her musings about her career, she thought about Allen. He did not get the job with Hartland Consultants, or the job with the Concord Group. In fact, it had been nearly three months and he hadn’t gotten any of the jobs he had applied for so far. It all made her feel a little guilty about her own success at the moment. But perhaps Allen was not in his true calling as she was. If he was, then he wouldn’t be having such a hard time right now, would he? Everything would have worked itself out like the way things worked out for her. She knew what she would do. She would pray to God for Allen; that He would help Allen find his true calling. Tamiko wanted to suggest to Allen that he pray about it, but she knew he was still more of a “religious” person rather than a Christian. He believed in God, just not in the power of God. Tamiko didn’t want to put pressure on him. Sometimes when she talked about her faith, Allen and the others would stare at her as if she needed to be in a straight jacket. Allen would say that she was being childish, Jim would talk about how Christianity was a white man’s religion used to subdue slaves, Tim would start waxing philosophical, Callie would start talking about how all gods lead to the same path, and Richard wouldn’t say anything. Overall, she decided she needed to be patient with her friends. Tamiko realized that a lot of young people have a hard time making the spiritual connection to God, because they tend to be too wrapped up in the magnificence of their own person, and their quest for independence. She knew because she had been there herself. No, she would simply wait. Her life would speak on behalf of God. She would be like Abraham. One day she would be so successful, her friends would ask her how it all happened. Then she would tell them, and then they would believe and be converted.

  Six