Meeting My Once and Future Classroom
 |
| This was my actual classroom eight years ago, which is the same I have now. |
Meet my once and future classroom.
It once had a exposed wooden door, working lights, nine unmarked boxes, beige lockers, and a second year teacher scared for his career. I know this because I was him eight years ago. Throughout the year, the desks rumbled and shuffled about the class, sometimes in groups, in pairs, or in single row and file while students and their teacher prepared for tests of all kinds. The teacher whispered, yelled, almost laughed, and taught through seasons of administrative temperament more intemperate than the seasons. His entire existence rested upon the piles of work on his desk, which also served as perfect coverage for the times he had to emote. He made it through that year, stronger for the fact that he didn’t send his resignation papers in the June of that academic year.
That classroom, like the teacher, started gathering more students, more chairs, and more responsibilities. It served as headquarters for after-school and summer programs on a regular basis. It served as an ELA and social studies room, even though math books anchored the leftover texts. The custodians had painted the lockers blue, and the influx of human traffic scuffed and scratched the lockers, revealing some dull-brown streaks. A room that once only had student desks and a huge meeting desk turned book holder accumulated bookshelves of different use, and to make up for that, the lights closest to the white board dimmed, pushing all the attention to the bookshelves.
Walking into it yesterday, I noticed the waxed floor, the newer desks already set in groups, and all the stuff I moved from my Meeting My Once and Future Classroom - The Jose Vilson: