WHY I TEACH-Part 4: Cracked Walls Don’t Scare Me

The next morning, as I walked down the still dark, but no longer garbage-filled hallway, to my classroom, I smiled at the progress I had made. When I flicked on the light, I gasped. An empty room stared back at me. Everything gone. Tables, computers, chairs, all gone. I steadied myself against the wall.

“Excuse me,” a voice said behind me.

“AH!” I screamed, jumped, and bashed into the wall.

“I’m sorry, are you ok?”

I turned to face Atticus. I sucked in a deep breath and bent over. “You scared the pee out of me.”

Atticus chuckled. “I tried to catch you before you got here. I waxed your floors. They should be dry soon.”

I looked into my classroom. The light grey tiles glistened.

“Wow, holy cow,” I stuttered, “They look amazing!”

Atticus beamed. “Thank you. I’ll be back in an hour or so to load the furniture back in.”

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome. Is there anything else you need?”

I looked at him and then down the hallway. “Any chance you could put a light switch on that end of the hallway?”

He turned, looked, and scratched his patchy beard. “Let me see what I can do.”

The call box on the wall buzzed. “We have some packages up here for you,” Mrs. Orian said. “A lot of packages.”

“I’ll be right there,” I replied.

“I’ll come help you get them,” Atticus said. “Let me go get my hand truck and I’ll meet you at the office.”

I smiled and nodded.

Mr. Myers sat in his office staring at his computer screen.

“Mr. Myers,” I said, “I have a quick question.”

“Shoot,” he replied.

“Is there any way I can get my classroom painted?”

He laughed. “Nope, not in the budget.”

“What if I bought the paint and painted it myself?”

He cocked his head to the side, “You would have to get permission from the county office.”

I waited.

“Well, there’s no way that’s going to happen,” he finally said dismissively.

“Ok, thanks,” I said as I turned to leave.

“And what did you buy?” he asked as he gestured to the stack of office supply store boxes.

“I got school supplies, like scissors, paper, a printer, pencils, and other stuff.”

“Did you buy any food?”

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked.

“Did you buy any food?” he repeated.

“Um, no, just school supplies.”

“Good, don’t,” he said curtly. “Have a good day.”

An hour later, I had fourteen empty boxes stacked to the ceiling. School supplies lay organized into piles on the small built-in shelf by my office door.

I looked around my classroom and realized two things. First, the dreary paint peeling, yellowing cinderblock walls were not going to change because it wasn’t in the budget or going to be approved by the county and second, I didn’t have a whiteboard, bulletin board, or any sort of board on my walls.

I flipped open my laptop and logged into the office supply store. I noticed the history link in the upper right corner, so I clicked it. My eyes bulged as I read the items on previous orders. Mr. Joseph, every three months over the course of the previous five years, had used his $3,000 budget to buy bulk candy bars, snack-sized chips, and prepackaged breakfast items.

I took a deep breath and shook my head. I did a quick search for bulletin boards and mobile whiteboards. Let’s be honest, who knew those things were so expensive? Raise of hands: who knew? Utterly dismayed, I closed my laptop and offered up a sincere wish for some sort of cheap school or office supply store to magically present itself.

I walked back to the front office to check my mailbox. As I tossed the junk mail into the recycle bin, I noticed a flyer for a county surplus sale that just so happened to be this week only! “Bargains galore! Office supplies! Too good to miss!”

I marveled at the fact Stuart had offered to get the oil changed in my car, so I was driving his truck. I put the address into my GPS and off I went. Not only did I find two very large and had-seen-better-days bulletin boards, I also found a mobile whiteboard with only three wheels.

I really didn’t have $100 to spend, but hey, I needed them. I noticed a small 3x5 index card at the check-out desk that simply said, “Teacher?” I presented my school ID to the woman behind the desk and she smiled warmly and rang up my purchase. “That will be $25,” she said.

I blinked and leaned in, thinking I’d heard her incorrectly.

“$25,” she repeated, “Teacher’s discount.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled as I handed her my credit card.

She winked and said, “I’ve been retired 4 years now, I know what it’s like.”

As I pulled up to the backdoor of my classroom, I found Atticus and another man loading the furniture back into the room. Atticus peered into the truck bed. He noticed the three-wheeled whiteboard. “I think I’ve got an extra wheel lying around. Samuel, come grab the other side of this. We’ve got you covered,” he said with a knowing smile.

That night, on the way home, I stopped at the store and picked up the ingredients to make my first batch of chocolate chip cookies for Atticus and Samuel.