WHY I TEACH-Part 30: And the Award Goes To…

“You guys look amazing,” I said to the four FBLA members standing before me. Terrance, Alex, Emma, and Jorge were decked out in white shirts, FBLA ties, black pants, and Dollar Store black aprons.

I handed them the short agenda. “Terrance, you can lead the tour. Just be sure...”

“Be sure to avoid your classroom,” he interrupted. “We know. We disconnected the lights and placed a few empty boxes at the beginning of the hallway.”

“Have I mentioned how amazing you guys are?”

They nodded.

“Because you know you really are!”

They got busy setting up four trays with snack foods, fruit, and veggies. With a budget of $25, it wasn’t spectacular, but they managed to make it look fancy.

The stack of Industry Certification binders loomed on the far table. I’d spent the last two weeks meticulously combing through each one, making sure all the requirements were met and that every piece of student work was included. I’d hunted down more than one student to ask them to reprint or redo an assignment. But they were done, to the best of my ability, they were done.

I took a deep breath and headed to the front entrance of the school. I stood nervously, shifting my weight from one foot to the next. The four members of the certification committee arrived at exactly 8:57. After a quick stop in the conference room for light snacks, the FBLA kids gave the committee members a tour of our classrooms. The kids expertly pointed out all of our state-of-the-art equipment and skillfully avoided going into my classroom. It’s amazing how a dark hallway deters people from entering.

The next four excruciating hours were of them going page-by-page through every binder and asking me hundreds of questions. At noon, we stopped for lunch. All the members of my department joined us. The lunch ladies had graciously made sub sandwiches, potato salad, and several pitchers of lemonade.

I found it shocking to see members of my department acting so happy and congenial. It had taken so much to get them to complete their requirements. They complained at every level about the extra work.

As the committee members laughed and joked with us, I assumed it to be a positive sign. Back in the conference room, another hour passed as the committee members filled out an entire tree’s worth of forms.

I held my breath as they signed the last form.

“Congratulations, you’ve passed.” They handed me a sheet of paper. “These are improvements that need to be made, however, you’ve got five years to get them done.”

My knees wobbled and I steadied myself on the nearby table. “Thank you so much!”

When I opened the conference room door, I found my four FBLA kids with trays in hand. They’d taken the ice cream and cookies I kept in my classroom and created desserts for us.

“We thought you might like a treat before you go,” Emma said.

“Simply amazing, simply amazing,” I said with genuine pride and awe.

A few days later, at the final faculty meeting of the year, after the reports of arrested kids—only five percent—down from nine percent the previous year, Mr. Myers called our department up to the front of the room.

“I’d like to thank department chair, Mr. Esthes, for all of his hard work in completing Industry Certification,” Mr. Myers said.

My jaw fell open.

“I know it was a monumental task and we are grateful for the recognition you’ve brought to our school. In appreciation, I’d like to present you with this check for $100, made out to you.”

Everyone clapped as Mr. Esthes took the check, shook Mr. Myers’ hand, and thanked him.

“Un-freaking-believable,” I mumbled as I headed back to my seat.

Mr. B. patted me on the back. “I know it was all you, anyone who knows anything, knows it was all you.”

“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” Mrs. Orian said as she stood before the podium, “Teacher Awards!”

“Please don’t let me win the Easiest Teacher. Please don’t let me win the Easiest Teacher.” I repeated silently over and over.

“As you know, each award is voted on by our student body and tallied by Mrs. Greene from the accounting department,” Mrs. Orian said.

I held my breath as she said, “Now let’s begin with the Easiest Teacher.”

Mr. B. patted me on the back. “Breathe,” he whispered.

I exhaled as Mrs. Orian said, “Mr. Smart in the Business Department.”

Several teachers began mumbling.

“He’s the long-term sub who took over Ms. Keen’s classes,” Mrs. Orian clarified. “And it seems he is not here today.”

As she rattled off the other winners, I stopped paying attention until Mr. B. poked me and motioned for me to go up. I looked at him and shrugged.

“You won,” he said.

I looked around, all eyes looked at me.

“You won the overall Favorite Teacher of the Year,” he beamed.

Mr. Myer’s face distorted and turned red. As I stood and began walking to the front to receive my award, he pushed Mrs. Orian from the podium. “You are all dismissed. Have a great summer.”

The clapping died down as teachers began whispering.

When I got to the podium, I looked at Mrs. Orian. She took the award she was holding and set it on the table. It clearly had my name on it. I reached out for it.

Mr. Myers snatched the award off the table and crumpled it into a ball. He said, “I’ve got nothing for you. I’m sure it was a mistake.”

I turned and walked out of the library, out of the building, to the parking lot, and into my car. I held back the tears until I pulled into my driveway.