The next few days after my first on the job went progressively a little better. I was getting used to the commute, which took between 45 and 60 minutes depending on how many of the 17 stoplights on Route 27 were green when I reached them. I now knew not to expect a lunch break (although I still clung to the hope that I’d get to snatch a bite to eat and brought a little food each day). I could let myself in the door. I also met the two teachers with whom I would be working.
On Tuesdays and Thursdays in the late mornings to early afternoons, I was scheduled to teach a part-day class of three-year-olds with Janie Long. Janie only taught that one class, and she’d been doing it for about eleven years. She was slightly older than I and considerably shorter, with long, blonde hair and a feisty spirit. She had more energy than most children I know!
She clocked in at Pemberton one day to get a little prep work done before our class began the following week. That’s when Linda introduced us. I asked her what I could do to help, and once again, was denied, but nicely. She let me know that she had been doing this for a long time, had her own ideas about how to do things, and it would just be easier for her to go ahead and do them rather than try to explain it all.
On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, from 2:30 until 5:00, I am supposed to teach a part-day four-year-old class with a young woman named Crystal. She’s a tiny, pale, freckled, little thing with long, straight, dark hair. It turns out she was one of the teachers who helped assemble the prospective parent folders with me last week. She was not happy about having to work on Fridays until 5:00. Before this, she used to volunteer to go home early if Linda needed to reduce the number of staff when there were fewer children in the building than expected. Now she won’t be able to do that. She’d argued with Linda for another class assignment (I was trying not to take it personally), but Cate, the general area manager, was the ultimate authority, and this was the class Cate had assigned her, so apparently there was no use arguing. Linda had given her the responsibility of teaching me “the Pemberton way.” I’m to learn the proper way to run my classroom from Crystal.
I asked Crystal about what we needed to do to prepare for our first class, but she hasn’t found the time to work with me yet. Our four-year-old students come tomorrow for the first time. If she wants help getting ready for our class, she’d better find the time soon. All of the teachers are supposed to present the same material to all of their classes at the same time, but I haven’t figured out how they know what to do yet. From where do they get their direction?
I had my first three-year-old class today, all twenty of them. My, they were a squirrelly bunch! They are precious, though. Even with this little contact, I can tell a lot about them.
Caden is a tow-headed little stinker, but he’s so doggone cute, you can’t stay aggravated with him for long. He’s the tiniest (and possibly the youngest) of our group. Ellen is quiet, but not necessarily shy. Walker is our “tough guy.” He’s not a bully; he just seems to be more mature than a lot of the others, and nothing is going to bother him. Patty is used to getting her own way. Anabelle is an absolute sweetheart. Nancy is a forty-year-old woman in a three-year-old body. Savir is a little ball of fire. It’s going to take all the strength Janie and I have combined to keep up with him. Anikait is quiet and gentle. I suspect his mother dotes on him. Allie is very strong-willed and stubborn. Elianna likes to be a good helper.
Faith is painfully shy and frightened. She clung to her mother and screamed when I had to pull her away. I would be frightened, too, if I had been brought up in China all this time and could speak no English and my mother was leaving me with total strangers who didn’t understand a word I could say. (Consequently, she didn’t say anything, just cried…a lot.) I held her almost the entire time. (My back is now killing me, but if it brought her any comfort, it was worth it.)
Working with Janie is like working with a whirlwind. She whooshes here and there and everywhere; she makes me feel like a snail. It’s difficult to keep up with her. Fortunately, she doesn’t seem to expect me to. I told her from the outset to feel free to tell me what to do. I may not know what she needs when she needs it, but I’m always willing to help. Just tell me what to do and how. I think we’ll work well together once I get the hang of the routine.