A school bus rolled by this morning. I know, because the squeaky brakes and slamming sliding door when my neighbor’s child stepped aboard woke me from a sound sleep. This is the fifth September I haven’t answered to the school bell, having retired from teaching in 2006.
Do I miss it? Not really. Occasionally, I still get a slight twinge of withdrawal, but I go out into the sunshine on my back deck with a novel and a cup of coffee, sit quietly for a moment on my lounge chair, and the feeling quickly passes.
Oh, I don’t regret my 30-year career; overall, it was wonderful! And I still tell myriads of silly anecdotes and offer suggestions to eager teachers just entering the field. In fact, a former student of mine, now enrolled in education classes in college, recently asked what my secret was for maintaining classroom control in front of dozens of wiggly children.
I gave her a Cheshire cat smile. “Remember how I used to pull my glasses down and glare at the class over the top of the frames?”
She quickly nodded. “The Teacher Look!”
“Yes, that’s right.” I demonstrated again for her, sliding my glasses down my nose a bit, raising one eyebrow and looking stern.
“Oooo… scary…” she shuddered exaggeratedly. “That still gets me, Ms. B.”
I laughed. “And not a one of you ever knew I was nearsighted.”
“Nearsighted?”
“That’s right.” I patted her arm. “I can’t see anything more distant than the tips of my fingers when I’m not looking through the lenses. Without my glasses, the whole class turned into one gigantic blur.”
“So you really weren’t staring right through us?”
“Imagination is everything,” I replied. “You thought I was about to lower the boom, so you shaped up. Discipline was immediately restored.”
My young friend smiled. “The Teacher Look will live on, Ms. B. I’m gonna use it in my own classroom— Just as soon as I get one!”
So of course I didn’t miss it when the busses rolled this morning… I’m still teaching!