After
"Help," I cried, within the first moments of opening the classroom door to a passel of first-graders. I fled into the adjoining teacher's classroom, three single-spaced typed pages of teaching plans sweaty in my hands. I had only checked off 1. Take Attendance, and bedlam reigned.
"I don't think I can do this," I declared.
The other first grade teacher, a tall, kind-eyed man with a reddish brown beard smiled. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"I mean I can't do this!"
He followed me back into my classroom. Eleven children tumbled on the grey carpet in the circle area like manic puppies. One little brown-eyed boy bounced on a large blue exercise ball. Blocks were strewn about. Plastic baggies containing slim reading-buddy books were heaped by an easel upon which was written the Morning Message. There was a tumbled pile of homework folders, papers spilling out.
A cacophony of tiny shrill voices greeted us.
"He's not supposed to be on the ball!"
"It's the teacher's ball."
"No-o," the little bouncer Pierce, said, bouncing higher. "Mind your own business."
"First graders," my fellow adult, Eric, chanted in a dulcet-toned Mr. Rogers voice, "We have a guest teacher. Can you be kind and helpful today for our guest teacher?"
"No-o!"
"Okay!"
"You'll be all right," Eric said, patting me on the arm. He walked over to a white wall phone by the door, and pointed out an extension number.
"If you have any trouble, just call Mr. C in the PFS room, tell him what the situation is, and send the child up to see him."
"Thanks," I said.
I slid atop the teacher ball, and promptly slid off to a chorus of giggles. Chris sat on Jack, who burst into tears. Quinn, Mikala and Sophie climbed onto a bookcase, dislodging an arrangement of building blocks.
"They're not supposed to sit there!" Sierra alerted me.
"That was my castle!"
"Mind your own business!"
"No-o, mind yours!"
Some children spun in mini purple camp chairs. Someone was doing sit-ups. A few bucked like burros.
Nevaeh, or as had been loudly explained to me, Heaven-spelled-backwards lay on her tummy, yellow sweatshirt hood covering her curly head.
"Dear God," I said.
"So, can everyone please sit up and we can begin with ah, (I consulted my plans) a High 5 Hello. Er, how exactly does that work?" I whispered to Sierra, who was perched on a T-shaped green wooden structure.
"You give your neighbor a high 5 and say Good Morning," Sierra explained patiently.
The children went around the circle high 5-ing like mad until Jack got to me.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"I'm Mrs. Palmer," I said.
"Good morning, Mrs. Popper," Jack said, whopping my hand with gusto.
"Good morning, Mrs. Pom!"
"Good morning, Mrs. Pooper!"
"Mrs. Po!"
"Mrs. Poo!"
"Good morning," I answered, desperately scanning my body for signs of the flu.
"Can I go to the nurse?" Sophie asked. She proffered a pinkie.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"My pinkie has an ache."
"Sure, go ahead," I said generously.
Just then, I became aware of a Gollum-like presence worming its way across the floor on its stomach.
"Who are you?" I called out.
"That's William!"
"Why are you crawling on your stomach, William?" I asked. Clearly not comfortable with a direct question, William beat a hasty retreat by propelling himself backwards with his arms like Anansi the Spider to a far corner of the room. I spied pillows and a hooked rug.
"Can he be there?" I consulted Sierra.
"Yes, it's the Quiet Corner."
"How long should he stay there?"
"As long as he likes."
"Can I join him?"
"No-o!" said Sierra.
"It's sharing time!" Six voices announced.
"Okay, who'd like to share?" I asked.
Mikala's hand shot up.
"No-o! She shared last time!"
"I can share again," Mikaka said.
"That's not fair!" 10 voices yelled.
"Can she share again?" I asked Sierra.
"Yes," Sierra intoned, a pint-sized King Solomon.
Mikala's share was an overly long tale about having supper with her family at a place in town called The Firefly. She and someone else, a cousin, sister, or possibly an uncle were playing a game called "Dummies." Three children were allowed to ask a question or make a comment.
Jack raised his hand. "What was the game, anyway?"
"I don't get it," Chris said.
"We were playing "Dummies," Mikala repeated, "at The Firefly -"
"She doesn't get to say it all again!" Pierce shouted.
"Okay, okay," I said. "I think people might be a bit confused," I explained to Mikala.
"I'm confused!" Pierce shouted.
"I'm confused too," Nevaeh sighed.
"Since everyone is confused," I interrupted. "Let's just move on."
Next, Chris shared his Lego instruction book.
"That's confusing," Mikala commented.
Pierce, who had somehow resumed possession of the Teacher Ball, bounced on Ian, who began to wail.
"That wasn't kind or respectful," I said. "You'll have to go up to the PFS room." Then there were 10, I thought, or 9 if William stays in the corner.
Muddled memories of the rest of the morning mayhem are all that remain. I read a book called Amazing Grace, which prompted Nevaeh to break into song. There was seat work: cutting and pasting sentences that depicted the beginning, middle and end of the story. There was a fact or opinion page, which I explained 11 times. Children wearing headphones appeared for reading groups, reading aloud simultaneously something about a dragon, which was really a line of children going to the library, perhaps in China. During handwriting, children practiced writing F's.
"Who can give me a sentence using a word that begins with the sound of ph?"
Chris leaped to his feet from his sanctuary beneath his desk.
"William farted on me!" he proclaimed triumphantly.
"No-O!" William bleated from the corner. "I did not!"
I made for the phone.
"Another one is on his way," I said into the receiver.
Mikala gave me two paper snowflakes. Sierra offered to hold my hand. Ian approached me just before lunch, hunch-shouldered, to mutter that he just wanted to have a good day. "Me too, buddy," I agreed. "Me too."
I ate my lunch in my car while plotting my escape.
"Can't I just go home now?" I begged my friend Diana, a Pre-K teacher in the hall outside my classroom.
"No," she said. "You can't."
"WHY-Y?" I whined.
"Because you just can't," she said.
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