CPS 2011-2012

Day One

I walk into the office where teachers and staff are swiping in, mingling and eating doughnuts. I swipe in and turn around to see the back of a woman with long dark hair like my good friend who found another job in a suburb few weeks ago. I cry. I don’t want to be here.

I have nowhere to set my bags since I have no classroom so I carry them down the hall to our first meeting. I hear the principal say he wants to make decisions with us. Then I hear him say he has thrown out some of our furniture because we have too much. He has decided we don’t need planning and prep time as much as we need meetings.

Between meetings I carry my bags to the women’s room. The toilets are stained from rusty water. There are no paper towels.

We are scheduled for meetings all day and all day I wait to find out what classes I’ll be teaching. They don’t know yet. I’m told by the programmers that programming has been a lot of work.

Teachers complain between meetings that we have too many meetings.

At the end of the day I leave with my bags that are fuller from materials from the meetings. I still don’t know what I’m teaching or what classroom I’ll be in. Programming, I hear, is a lot of work.

I toss and turn most of the night and plan my speech to the principal, convincing him we need to prepare for students rather than sit in meetings. It sounds really reasonable to me. In my bed in my head I tell him throwing out our furniture is disrespectful. Surely this speech would change his approach, if ever I had the nerve.

Day Two

I ride my bike to work with two bags full of complaints. I carry them with me down the hall to our first meeting. I’m angry. I tell myself I can’t carpet the world; I’m going to have to put on some shoes. But when I get in the meeting and realize it’s about things I already know, I ask a friend why I need to be in this meeting. She shakes her head noncommittally. I step out to go to the bathroom. Today there are paper towels. On my way back into the meeting, I lean over to another teacher and ask why we need to be in this meeting. She doesn’t feed my cause like I expect. Hmm. I suddenly see myself from the outside, and I don’t like what I see. I figure out a way to put on some shoes, to make this meeting be worthwhile for me. I ask questions. I get something out of this.

After the meeting, I see one of the programmers. No, she still does not know my classes. She says she’ll have them tomorrow, the last day of preparation for school on Tuesday.

I search for my cabinets and book cases. They are all here. Nothing has been thrown out. Privately I hang my head for the drama I created for myself.

Teachers complain most of the day. When they tell me their cabinet got moved into the wrong room, or that they have three different rooms, I want to say at least you have a room, but I don’t.

We are given an hour today to prepare for students. I’m scheduled for a meeting at that time. But it doesn’t matter since I can’t prepare because programming is a lot of work. I’m beginning to relax into the freedom this gives me. I store some things from my bags in a locker. My bike ride home is lighter today.

I sleep heavily this night.

Day Three

I walk to school wearing a backpack. Finally I’ve made the perfect adjustment. I find one of the programmers who says he’s working on it now. Yeah. Mind you, this is my last day to prepare. I wear my backpack to three morning meetings. In the second meeting, I look up at a window and see only blue sky and white clouds framed so beautifully. I wish I had a camera. I feel lucky to see it. The timing is perfect. In our third meeting in the dark auditorium with no windows and no clouds we hear the same spiel we heard last year about standardized tests. Afterwards everyone complains about our wasted time and CPS money.

I wear my backpack into the women’s room and a teacher tells me I look cute, like I’m going mountain hiking. I sing Valerie, Valerah which she’s too young to know. The toilets have been cleaned. I point that out and the young teacher says things are looking up.

At lunchtime I find a programmer again. Guess what? Go ahead guess. Surprise, you’re wrong! I got my classes! I have my room assignment. I heat my black beans and rice and hustle them up to my classroom so I can locate and organize my supplies, fill out work orders to get my furniture delivered, prepare materials, arrange the room and decorate the boards. I ask how I can get my dictionaries from the book room. I discover I can’t, that no one will get any books for the first three weeks of classes. I wonder what I can do for three weeks without the books, but at least I had three days of meetings to help me be a better teacher. In spite of these little tiny setbacks, I’m psyched. I feel like the parent of a pregnant teen. During the pregnancy there is anger, feelings of mistrust and betrayal, lots of worry. But then the baby arrives and the drama, the shouts of disappointment and shame are replaced by soft coos and everybody is bustling around making space for the wee little thing. All is forgiven. I’m glad I’m here.

I wear my backpack to the bar my friend and I decide upon for our next meeting. Now things are really looking up.

As a tribute to the hard work of programmers and the efficiency of Chicago Public Schools, how about we make those black beans and rice I’ve been carrying around? Your shopping bags will be light, your time well spent.

Black Beans and Rice

1 package or 2-3 c. of black beans

2 T. oil

4 cloves of garlic, chopped or minced

1 small to medium onion chopped

2 green peppers cut in bite sized pieces

1 lime

1 ½ to 2 T. salt

1 t. black pepper

2 t. cumin

1 T. chili powder

Fresh cilantro

Rinse and soak beans overnight, or soak for an hour in water brought to boil. Saute onions and garlic in oil. (For low cal version, forget the oil and just let the onions and garlic cook with the beans.) Add spices and stir. Pour in beans with soaking water. Some people like to drain and use fresh water. Add another 2 cups of water. Bring to boil. Add juice of lime. Lower heat and cover, stirring occasionally. After about two hours or more, when the beans are close to being done, add the peppers. Add more water if necessary. Cook another half hour until peppers and beans are tender. Taste for salt and spice content. My measurements are approximations. Serve over brown rice and garnish with chopped fresh cilantro. A dollop of plain fat free yogurt is nice on this too. Consider adding more vegetables in this recipe: tomatillos and chayote are a great addition.

This recipe is for Nitya, which rhymes with forsythia, a flower of a teacher who is blooming outside of CPS now.