“You think of your students as your kids?”
“Why shouldn’t I? You know something, I deserve some slack from you,” Zee said. “I’m new, I’m muddling through, and I just went through a thing today. I joined Teach and Reach to do some good. I really did. And if that’s not happening, well, I don’t know what else to do. But ever since I came to this school you’ve hated me.”
“You think this is about you?” Noelle said. “You are just a cog in the Teach and Reach wheel, so please don’t inflate your position. I know we’ve had a rough day, and we had it together, but if I hated you I would not be sitting with you right now. I would be far away from you.”
“Oh, so you’re saying you like me? That’s puzzling. It sure doesn’t come off as liking.”
“You’re going to have to work harder if you want me to like you. But it sounds a little more possible than your other goal,” said Noelle. “Saving the students in the Learning Octagon network.”
“They need all the help they can get.”
“Not from you, sweet pea.” This was almost murmured, the same endearment Noelle had used with Shara during the delivery, and she had meant it tenderly then, but now she meant it sharply, lovelessly.
“Then from who? Who else can help an octagon made up of only seven schools, where everyone starts off with nothing? I acknowledge my privilege. I grew up in Scarsdale, New York. But why should my class background disqualify me? Does my experience have to be the same as my students’?”
“My mother is a solidly middle-class office manager for an allergist here in Chicago,” said Noelle. “She raised my sister and me all by herself—my father died of a heart attack when I was five—but we had everything we needed, just like you. Music lessons, orthodontia, lots of books on the shelves, and a life of consistency. That is my mother’s strong suit. I am not saying that anyone’s experience has to be the same as the students’.”
“So what are you saying?”
Noelle leaned closer across the table; from this sudden proximity, Zee was given a different view. She didn’t simply have to be intimidated by her or admire her physically. As for the possibility of being betrayed, this had nothing to do with the older women in Zee’s past, Linda Mariani and Dr. Marjorie Albrecht, who had both shockingly betrayed her, or even Faith Frank, who hadn’t betrayed her but had simply had no interest in hiring her, despite Zee’s heartfelt letter. Noelle Williams had given her no expectations at all. Zee didn’t have to be hurt by her. She could stand up to her if she chose.
“We were told,” said Noelle, “that a dedicated team of teachers would sweep in on their dedicated horses, and they would save our schools. But in fact what’s happened is that a team of completely unprepared teachers, right out of college themselves and with virtually no training except for a crash course that is far shorter than the course you’d need to take in order to become an air-conditioning repair person, have been sent into our schools. And we’re told to be grateful. We’re told that this is good enough, and that we should be respectful of the notion that people like you are willing to accept a low-paying job in order to do something worthwhile. When in fact, no, it is not good enough, at least not to me. Some of my colleagues feel differently from me. They approve of Teach and Reach, and think it’s an admirable enterprise that’s worthy of our support. But since Teach and Reach came, it’s worth pointing out that things are no different.
“Now, I am comforted by our president. A black man. And brilliant and kind. I just love him to pieces. But nothing is going to change the baked-in bad stuff all that fast. And in various ways, Teach and Reach is just making everything worse. It can’t take any criticism, and therefore it will never change. And all it keeps doing is trying to squeeze our schools to fit into some corporate-driven shape. Veteran teachers are being laid off, but Teach and Reach keeps going. It degrades the profession of teaching. And of course this program is targeting black and brown communities. It would never fly in a white school. And you know what’s going to happen? There are forces out there that are lying in wait, taking their time, knowing they will have their moment. You and some of the others, you’re not bad people, I know that, but you’re not skilled and you’re not prepared, and you’re only doing these jobs for a little while. You’re not here for the duration; no one even thinks you are. You’re here postcollege to try and do something good, and once you’ve had that experience, you’re going to turn around and do something else. Probably something less good but more financially rewarding. I don’t blame you, Zee. I’d do it too if I were you. But we need people who are here for the long run. Because things are going to get so much worse, and then what will happen?”
“So you’re saying I should quit now?”
Noelle looked at her steadily. “Is that really what you think? No, of course I’m not saying that. You shouldn’t do that to these kids, not in the middle of the year; not like some people. They crave stability. You stay, and you finish the year, and you do your best, and then you decide. Look, I’m sure you’re a fine person, and I’m sure you’re a person who is trying hard to . . . what do you say to yourself, ‘get involved’? I know that feeling; I have had it myself. But sometimes the way to get involved is to just live your life and be yourself with all your values intact. And by just being you, it’ll happen. Maybe not in big ways, but it’ll happen.”
“I saw it differently,” Zee said quietly. Noelle nodded. “In any event, it happened really fast. I was living with my parents and working as a paralegal. I really hated it. My best friend works for Faith Frank. She has a women’s foundation, and I thought maybe I could work there too. But that didn’t happen. I had to get out of the law firm, not to mention my parents’ house. But Judge Wendy Eisenstat made it very clear that whatever I did, I needed to make a living wage.”
“Who?”
“My mother.”
“You call her Judge Wendy Eisenstat?”
“Yes. Or Judge Wendy. It drives her crazy. She prefers Mom. But honestly, she’s had such a judicial presence my entire life. When she shows up in my dreams, sometimes she’s wearing robes. My dad too. He’s the other Judge Eisenstat, but he’s more low-key.”
Noelle smiled; was it the first smile? At least it was the first unambivalent one. “So I guess,” she said, “your name isn’t Eisenhower.”
“No.”
“And yet you didn’t correct me.”
“I wouldn’t do that. It might make you self-conscious.”
“Do you correct your students when they say something wrong?” asked Noelle.
“Yes. Teach and Reach tells us we’re supposed to.”
“Do you always do what everyone tells you?”
“If they ask nicely.”
“Well, I’ll have to learn to ask you to do things nicely then,” said Noelle. “Note to self.”
Zee paused, trying to figure out this turn. “That would be a good idea. You might even see some results,” she finally said. “Better than test scores. ‘No Woman Left Behind.’”
There was an open playfulness between them now; they’d gone from friction to childbirth to an angry soliloquy to this new, uncertain stage. I am so confused! Zee thought, looking at Noelle’s small, ornamented ear. “Is your mother very maternal?” Zee suddenly wanted to know.
“Medium. She’s more like the steward of a ship. A nice ship, though. Yours?”
“She’s been good at what she does. I can’t complain. Seeing Shara today, I was thinking that she’s just entering that whole parade, isn’t she?”
“What parade?”
“Oh, a mother begetting a tiny potential mother. She wasn’t even sure she was going to have a baby,” said Zee. She poked around at her plate. “I can’t even imagine,” she added.