Page 18 of The Sunny Side (Rojo 2nd Generation: Rojo Police Department #3)

C LANCY

I walked down the hall with Mrs. Weathers, the principal of Bowie Middle School, toward what was soon to be my classroom.

As we walked past the other rooms, Mrs. Weathers introduced me to the teachers that had their doors open.

They all seemed very personable and happy to see me.

It said a lot about both the school and the administration to see teachers who weren’t harried and frazzled with too much on their shoulders.

Before I took my position at the private school I’d been teaching at for the last few years, I worked as a substitute teacher in the Denver public school system.

At first, I didn’t understand why every teacher I spoke to seemed to hate their job, but after a week, I realized that I was beginning to dread going to work.

By the end of the day, I was so stressed out and drained that all I wanted was a few glasses of wine with a side of complete silence.

That all changed when I took a permanent position at the same private school I had attended. The teachers were upbeat and truly seemed to enjoy their jobs. I noticed after just a few days that I also looked forward to coming to work every day.

I understood then that it wasn’t just the public school administration that made things difficult but also the lack of funding and support which put too much stress on the teachers.

They couldn’t rely on the schools to provide the things they needed to successfully teach or the things they needed to make their classrooms a pleasant environment for the kids who were there to learn.

It made the teachers’ lives so much harder.

Even though it wasn’t a drop in the bucket compared to all of the help they needed, I started collecting things from the private school where I worked and giving them to teachers at the public school who could use them.

When one of the teachers I worked with decided to redecorate her classroom, I took the things she was going to get rid of and gave them to the teachers I knew so they could distribute them to whoever wanted them.

It wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things, but at least the teachers who received the items that would have otherwise been thrown away didn’t have to purchase them with their own money.

Before I left Denver, I got together with some of the teachers I’d worked with for the last few years and connected them to the others I’d met when I was a sub in the hopes that what I’d started would carry on.

Just like me, the teachers from the private school realized how well they had it and became resolute in their determination to help the other teachers who didn’t have nearly as much support, if any.

When I saw the cheerful pictures on the walls in the hall and the glimpses of the classrooms we had already passed, I had high hopes that this district wasn’t in such dire straits. But if it was, I’d figure out a way to help.

I knew that I had lived a sheltered but extremely comfortable life.

Before my mom died, she drilled it into my head that good people were generous and caring, and I should always strive to help others.

After Mom was gone, our grandmother took where she’d left off.

We spent countless hours with her doing work for the less fortunate in our area.

We helped with clothing drives that focused on winter coats and sturdy shoes for the cold months and raised funds to update and replace park equipment for kids to enjoy during the warmer months.

My sisters and I had learned so much from our grandmother, but the most important things she’d taught us were to never stop moving forward, never stop fighting for what was right, and to always give back more than we took from the world.

Those lessons were instilled in us by our grandmother's words and, more importantly, her behavior.

Now, the three of us were unstoppable when we put our mind to something.

Just because we had money didn’t mean we should ever be lazy.

That was something our grandmother insisted we keep in mind.

It still made me smile when I remembered how she described women like my stepmother as “worthless twits with brains made of mashed potatoes who think the world should bow to them because they married well.”

That was a perfect description of Collette and the women she called her friends, although I could think of a few more things to say about them that weren’t nearly as nice.

“This will be your classroom, Ms. Middleton.”

“Please, call me Clancy,” I said as I walked through the door she’d just unlocked. I stopped inside and smiled when I saw the maps and pictures all over the walls. It was bright and colorful, and I thought it would make a great backdrop for learning the subjects I loved to teach.

“I put everything I think you’ll need right now on the desk. You have the syllabus for the summer session, the lesson plans Mrs. Proctor arranged, and even her notes and talking points.”

“Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

“I think we should talk about that. She collapsed in the middle of class and some of the students ran to get help. Our resource officer, Officer D, rushed to her aid and watched over her until the ambulance arrived. When I talked to her daughter last night, she told me it had been a cardiac event and they’re doing tests to pinpoint exactly what’s going on and figure out how to fix it.

It seems that surgery is in her near future.

Her daughter was positive she wouldn’t be back during the summer session and would most likely be out for the fall semester too. ”

“Oh, goodness. I hope she’s okay. I’ll make sure that the kids know I’m available if they’d like to talk about what happened yesterday.”

“And please remind them that my door is always open, and they can always talk to one of our guidance counselors.”

“I will.”

Mrs. Weathers turned toward the door, but then turned back to me and said, “I almost forgot! I spoke to her last week about a trivia competition that she has arranged with Officer D. I know the kids are really looking forward to it, so I’d like to make sure it still happens.

There are notes about it and a list of questions that she’s compiled so far to make that a fun experience.

If you don’t feel like that’s something you can take on, I’ll talk to . . .”

“That sounds fun!” I interrupted eagerly.

“I’m glad you think so.”

“I’ll have the kids tell me about it, and then I’ll look over her notes.”

“Officer D had an appointment this morning, but I’m sure you’ll meet him when he gets here. He’s great with the kids and has been diligently trying to build a rapport with each of them. If you don’t talk to him by the end of the day, send me a text and I’ll have him come by.”

“Thank you so much for this opportunity, Mrs. Weathers.”

“Thank you for being available. Most people have already made plans for the summer. I was worried I’d end up having to teach Mrs. Proctor’s classes myself.”

“My only plans for the summer are to get settled into my new place. The house was a blank slate when I started, but I’ve already finished my dining room and the bathrooms.”

“Is this your first house?”

“It is,” I said honestly, now that I knew the condo from my father wasn’t ever an actual gift.

“One thing about homeownership is that the work is never finished. Just when you think you’ve got it just the way you want it, you’ll get an idea or something will happen and you’ll start all over again.”

“Right now, that sounds like fun, but I might not feel that way after I start putting in the work all over again.”

Mrs. Weathers looked at her watch before she smiled at me and said, “The doors open in just a few minutes, so I’ll leave you to get situated before the kids start to arrive. If you need anything at all, just ask the teachers around you or send me a text. Thank you again!”

“I’m glad to help, and I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

As soon as she walked out, I sat down at the desk to go over the lesson plans for the day and familiarize myself with the seating chart to learn the kids’ names, something I felt was important so I could begin to get to know them.

Middle schoolers were dealing with a lot of changes physically and emotionally, and some teachers didn’t want to deal with that.

I discovered early on during my student teaching that I preferred middle school students to the younger students or high schoolers, and I was still happy with my choice.

I heard voices in the hall and felt my heart start to beat faster. Just like a kid on their first day in a new school, I was going to meet a multitude of new people. It wasn’t quite the same feelings of uncertainty a student felt when starting at a new place, but I was nervous all the same.

Rather than do my hardest to blend in, I had to stand at the front of the class and speak - something that terrified me when I was in middle school and for years after that.

The feeling of having all eyes on me still simultaneously filled me with terror and joy, but I had confidence in my ability to teach.

I was ready to prove to the students and staff that Mrs. Weathers had made the right choice by hiring me.

I pulled a stack of papers from my bag and set them on the corner of the desk.

I’d been too nervous to sleep last night, so I ended up spending a while on my laptop, drafting a list of questions that I hoped would help me get to know the students and break the ice between us at the same time.

Since I didn’t have a printer at home, I was at the nearest print shop when it opened this morning.

Now, armed with my first handout of my time here at Bowie Middle, I was ready to greet students at my first ever job in Rojo, Texas.

My new permanent home.

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brAWLEY