From the journal of Joanna Page:
So I’m not the sharpest tool in the…the brightest bulb in…let’s just say I’m hardly an Einstein. Some might even suggest I couldn’t even tie Einstein’s shoes…which makes me now wonder why I only wear sandals and slip-on sneakers.
Anywaaaay… [Hey, I’m smart enough to know when I’m getting off track.] when my loving (not really) principal Mrs. Phyllis Nix mentioned last June that there was a fourth-grade position at a neighboring school in the district, I just filed it away as ‘odd but interesting’…or was it ‘interesting but odd’?.
But when my loving [again…not really) grade four teaching partner Joy Ann Clark mentioned the same teaching job, I reclassified it from ‘odd but interesting’ to ‘hmmm…’.
It’s now late August and Mrs. Nix has informed me that I’m being moved to Room 36, which through my eight years at A.B. Sweeney has been called ‘the creaking portable.’ It’s a modular classroom set so far apart from the main building that there isn’t even a Room 35…or 34…or 33, 32, or 31. Yep, I’m no Einstein shoe-tying flunky, but it was pretty clear I’d been exiled.
Now, if I alone were sent to this island of luxury, that’s one thing. But for my students to feel separate and unequal? Not good.
So what did I do the next day?