MICHELLE
It’s been one of those days. You know, the days when you’re head won’t stop pounding, your mind is everywhere but where it should be, and you go all afternoon before you realize you’re wearing your shirt inside out. And by the end of the school day, I’m totally feeling it. In fact, this is one of the few days where I've been glad to send my students out of the classroom and where I really don’t want to watch them go.
Instead, all I want to do is sit back in my desk, thumb through a teacher’s edition textbook, and highlight till my hand has turned yellow. It’s my guilty pleasure – my relaxation technique. And no one is going to stop me from devouring the next three lessons for social studies.
… until Maddie walks in. It was the second day I hadn’t seen her in my classroom. I won’t lie when I say part of me didn’t miss her. As much as I commended her bravery and honesty, I certainly didn’t miss having to constantly correct her cursing or prevent her from lashing out on some of the other hotheads in my class. It was like a constant battle with her, and her being in the behavioral classrooms was a bit of a relief.
But the other part of me did miss her. She’s got a spirit, a grit, about her that was just like her father’s. She stood up for the little guy, and she wasn’t afraid to ask questions even if the other kids laughed or tried to make fun of her for it. You gotta love a student who actually cares like that.
So when Maddie walks through my door without even knocking, I’m a bit mixed on how I feel. She sits down at the desk across from me and sighs heavily, breaking the silence. “Miss Springer, when can I come back? I hate that stupid classroom with the bean bag chairs and the calming voices exercises.”
In my head I’m laughing as I picture this hell-fire girl being told to ‘breath in the good and exhale the bad’ or to practice counting exercises when she gets frustrated. I can only imagine how good that’s going! But still, I’m forced to keep an even, somber face as I reply, “Maddie, it’s only temporary. You know what you have to do. Just keep up the good work and power through it until the end of the quarter. That’s only a few weeks away.”
“That’s forever. I’m not very patient.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest and pouts dramatically.
I can’t stop myself as I say, “I can see you get that from your father.”
Her lip moves upwards towards a smile. “Yeah, my daddy don’t take crap from no one, and he certainly don’t wait around. He’d hate that classroom.”
I’m brought back to him telling me off as he walked out the door, me watching him saunter out the door like a spoiled child. These two are one of the same – wild to the bone, but at their core, just two impatient people. Luckily, I can handle it. “What have you told him about your new class?”
“Nothing. I haven’t talked to him about it. He’s been out on a run every night. Big Cindy’s been watching me.”
Zero of what she’s just said to me makes sense. “Who’s Big Cindy and why is she watching you?”
“Big Cindy’s the club’s main old lady. She’s Burner’s girl. Maybe his wife. I don’t know. She’s been around since my mom died. I see her on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. On Mondays, it’s Miranda. I don’t like her, but she sleeps with Ace and kinda lives with us. She just watches TV while I do homework. Then there’s Wanda and Pussita, but I don’t think Pussita is her real name. She always laughs when I call her that.”
Woah. I’m in shock. What am I supposed to do with that information? Most teachers would probably run and call protective services. But nothing she’s telling me indicates that she’s in any danger at all. It actually sounds like she’s got a support group.
I walk out from behind my desk and sit next to her in one of the kid-sized chairs. I lean in as if I’m about to tell her a secret. And in reality, it is. I don’t really share this with anyone else. “You know, I haven’t told you this, but when I was your age, my mom died, too. In a car accident. My dad was driving and he blamed himself for it. Other people did, too, but I knew better.”
I watch her as she lowers her head a bit, her eyes focusing on her hands twisting into knots. I’m diving into uncharted territory with this one, but I need to learn more to better understand her and her father.