Nailing The Board

Nailing the Board

by

Gary Sutherland

Copyright 2014 Gary Sutherland

Cover design by Jon Beauchaine

Smashwords Edition

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Chapter One

The people tugged at their shirts and tops to draw in air and flapped makeshift paper fans at their faces. The writing arms on the desks at which they sat were shaped like a bare human foot. Gilbert Sullivan’s unfinished portrait of Washington and an eighteen inch wall clock with big block numerals were the only other room furnishings. The two tone brown room was as drab and as hot as a desert. Both fire exit doors and the room’s only two windows were wide open to catch any hint of a breeze. The experienced people knew the brick building would heat up all day and remain as hot as a kiln until the August heat wave broke.

As eight A.M. approached the joshing and greetings among the people died down. They kept an eye on the south hall stair landing. At the precise moment the second hand touched the hour, three men entered the room in single file. They halted in the center at the front and pivoted together as if on a silent command to face the group. Coincidently they had filed in arranged according to their height with the tallest on the group’s left.

Morning, said Superintendent Aster, the tallest one, I know all of you and obviously you should all know who I am. The two beside him looked his way and grinned fondly. Today’s the start of another school year. If any of you have been at it as long as I have, it’s nothing to get too excited about. Superintendent Aster coughed failing to cover his mouth and spewed spit toward those in the first rows. His initial plumb line straightness sagged into a stoop. My teaching philosophy’s simple. Keep your ear to the ground, your nose to the grindstone, and your shoulder to the wheel. I know that’s a difficult position to maintain. . .

Ha, ha, ha, the two men laughed. Aster shot them a look.

". . .but that’s what I expect and that’s what it takes to get along here. Do things my way and you’ll be doing things all right. You’ll be watched closely and evaluated frequently. We’ve revised the evaluation process. We won’t slip-up like we did before.

Use your common sense if you’ve got any and keep your nose clean. I don’t believe in long speeches. We have joining us this year two new administrators. I expect they’ll be making some changes, he said menacingly.

Both men beside him drew themselves straighter.

On my immediate left is your new principal, Mr. Scheetzul.

Scheetzul stared icily at the group. He had a mane of wavy, ice-white hair, a nose way too long and straight, and he wore heavy, black, plastic-rimmed glasses. He was about average height and was shorter than Superintendent Aster.

On Mr. Scheetzul’s left is our new vice principal, Mr. Allen Raleigh.

Raleigh didn’t smile at his introduction either. He parted his hair right above his ear and combed it over his bald top. His eyes were as close set as a possum’s and his complexion was puss gray. He looked as if he had swallowed a basketball. Right now with the attention focused on him he was trying to pull in his gut. Raleigh was barely five foot five.

"I think we have picked two men to satisfy our peculiar needs. I’ll turn the meeting over now to your building principal, Mr. Scheetzul.

Well, folks, since I’m new to you I want to share some of my philosophy about how to run a school plant. I see our work as being like a well organized professional ball club. I was a athalete[sic] in high school and college. I coached for seventeen years. Some of you may be familiar with my win/loss record.

"The same fundamentals that are taught young athaletes [sic] are the same that we as educators need to practice and preach ourselves. Those things are practice, teamwork, sportsmanship, and discipline. We are a team. You’re the front line troops. I’m your coach. Mr. Allen, excuse me, I mean Mr. Raleigh is my assistant. The team manager is Superintendent Aster. He’s directly responsible to the team owners/operators, the school board. Our supporters are the parents and the community. They pay good money to see us make a successful effort and come out on top.

"I’m laying my cards on the table. I’ve heard about your trouble here clear across the state. I’ve heard that kids here are rough. That’s just a crutch. The community here and the kids are no different here than any place else. Maybe you won’t like some of the things I do or Mr. Aster does. That’s okay. If you don’t like it, you can leave. Nobody’s twisting your arm to stay here. I know that I wouldn’t stay any place if I didn’t feel wanted.

"I’m not saying that we don’t have a democratic society here, but there are proper channels that must be followed if we’re going to have a smoothly run operation. Remember all of us are just paid employees. The school board sets up the policies for the school district. Mr. Aster sees to it that Mr. Raleigh and me interpret those policies correctly. And, it’s our job to see that the policies are carried out.

But don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that you won’t have the opportunity for input and feedback. You’re professionals and we want to hear what’s on your mind. My door and I’m sure Mr. Raleigh’s door will always be open. Scheetzul looked behind him at Raleigh. Raleigh pressed his lips together and wrinkled his brow in a nod.

By now Scheetzul punched the air for emphasis with his right fist clenched. The people at the desks shifted and shuffled. The August day heated up. Feet unused to shoes all summer ached and burned. Stiff shirts and long pants scratched like sandpaper.

"One of the duties the board first directed me to do was put together a faculty handbook. I understand you haven’t had one in the past. Frankly, I don’t see how you functioned without one. I’m a firm believer in everything being written down and clearly understood. That way nobody’s left in the dark.

What I want to do is go over these guidelines this morning with you. Mr. Raleigh, will you help me distribute these?

Raleigh bounded up. At the head of each row he counted the persons and then counted the handbooks. He put on a very authoritative expression as though he was performing an important function.

Has everybody got one now? he asked as he sat down.

Two hands went up. Scheetzul looked back at Raleigh. He started to get up. No, that’s okay, Raleigh. I’ll get them.

Everybody turn to page one. May as well begin at the beginning, eh?

One person in the group snickered in appreciation.

"If you’ll read these policies along with me. Some of these policies need no explanation, but there are others that I will expand upon.

Many people in the group shot each other sidelong glances and curled their lips in disdain. Scheetzul really warmed up now. This was his chance to show the group what a fine educator he was. He choked up with emotion and devotion to his role as a leader.

’Teachers will be at their teaching posts from 8:00 A.M. until 4:00 P.M.’ Now I want to expand upon this, folks. When you arrive in the morning, don’t go directly to the teachers’ lounge and swill coffee until the first bell rings. You don’t arrive here half an hour before the students to take a coffee break. You’re not being paid to socialize with each other. Be in your rooms.

Superintendent Aster returned and took a desk behind everyone.

I think, folks, Scheetzul went on, that few teachers can do all their preparation and paper work between eight and four. Those who are in a hurry to leave right at four on the dot evidently just have a job. Scheetzul drew himself erect and punched the air with his fist. A good teacher will remain here at least to five minimum. I like to see those lights burning!"

’Teachers will be in the halls beside their rooms from 8:15 to the first bell. Teachers will be in the hall when classes pass and in the hall at the final dismissal bell until 3:45.’

A hand went up in the group. Scheetzul dipped his head and looked over the rim of his glasses. Yes?

I’m wondering that since we have to be at our teaching posts from eight to four and in the halls whenever classes pass, when can we go to the bathroom?

Well, said Scheetzul, "we’re not children any more. You should be potty trained by now.

A giggle went up from a person in the group.

I’m sure you can work something out. Scheetzul mollified his statement. He thought he better keep an eye on that guy. Aster took a note too.

’Daily lesson plans will be written out and a copy will be brought to my secretary each night before the teacher departs.’ Scheetzul picked up a large, red soft cover book from a table of supplies. This is your lesson plan book.

The same hand went up again.

Yes?

Do we have to use the lesson plan book? Can’t we just make a copy of the lesson plan we give to you for ourselves?

That would be a waste of paper. By using this book you will have a copy of your lesson plan on your desk, and the one you bring me and the one you have on your desk in your room will match. I will check if I visit your room. Scheetzul dropped his head and looked over his glasses. I’ll read them daily. They will become part of your evaluation file. And, they will help me determine which classrooms I wish to visit for the day.

We didn’t have to turn them in daily last year.

That was then; this is now. Scheetzul made a double note to keep an eye on that stocky guy with the handlebar mustache. As I was saying, bring a copy to my secretary before you leave the building each day.

The hand came up again.

What now?

Won’t it be just as big a waste of paper if your secretary prints all our lesson plans each day?

No, because they will only be printed once, in the office. You will have your handwritten copy in your lesson plan book.

Many teachers nodded.

Scheetzul went on, Now, what do I want on those lesson plans? I want the assignment for the day, the page numbers and the title of the book the lesson is taken from, the exercises and activities done in class, the goals and behavioral objectives, and I want an outline of your class presentation.

The hand went up. What’s the difference between goals and behavioral objectives?

Scheetzul looked petrified. You mean you went through four years of college and don’t know the difference a goal and a behavioral objective? Scheetzul looked desperately over the group. He didn’t know many names yet. Who can tell Mr., ah Mr...?

MacWolf.

Mr. MacWolf the difference between the two?

A hand went shyly up in the group. It was pretty little Sally Haney’s. She’d been the giggler in the group. Scheetzul had made a special point to remember her name on their first meeting. Relieved, he called on her. Miss Haney, will you tell him the difference between a goal and a behavioral objective?

Miss Haney spoke in a soft voice that people strained to hear. The goal is the objective you plan to reach each day or in the teaching unit. The behavioral objective is how the pupil’s behavior will be affected as a result of achieving that goal.

Thank you, Miss Haney. Scheetzul smiled at her. Does that clear it up for you, Mr. MacWolf?

I still don’t see the difference. They sound alike to me.

Scheetzul fell into the rut of repeating himself verbatim; the only way he knew to get through to a dim-witted pupil. Mr. MacWolf, the goal is how the pupil’s behavior will be affected by the lesson taught. The objective is how you’re going to achieve that goal. In other words, by what methods. I want a detailed explanation of each. See the difference?

Ya.

If we may go on then. ‘The teacher shall maintain a tidy room.’ Be good housekeepers, folks. Maintain a clean room. Keep your desk top orderly and well organized. Keep your students’ desks in straight rows. Each desk must line up with the others vertically and horizontally. Each desk will be thirty inches from the desk across from it. Each desk will be two inches behind the one in front of it.

The hand went up.

Yes?

Some of us have more than one kind of desk in our rooms. How can we line them up then?

Scheetzul exhaled a weary chest of air. Just do the best you can.

Will that go on our evaluations if we can’t keep them straight because they don’t match?

You’re being evaluated as a total teacher.

What does that mean?

It means you’re being evaluated as a total teacher. Can it be made any clearer that that?

Okay.

Now where were we?

About the desks, volunteered Miss Haney.

Right. Keep those desk tops clean. No markings on them and no trash in them. Keep the floor picked up, the furniture dusted, and the chalk boards and trays clean.

What are the janitors supposed to do then?

Never mind about the janitors. Good janitors are hard to find; teachers are a dime a dozen.

They never told me in my education courses that I was going to be doing custodial work.

Scheetzul didn’t say anything. He kept peering over his glasses at the mustachioed, bald buy. He went on, ’A trait of a master teacher is good discipline. A master teacher handles his own discipline.’ Don’t expect me to do your disciplining for you. If a situation reaches a point that you can’t handle, then you have failed. Don’t lose control. If you’re constantly sending kids to the office then you’re . . . ah. Scheetzul forgot the point he was trying to make. His eyes glazed over the rims of his glasses. He stood silently for seconds. Then he pulled himself together.

Ah-hum, well, yes. ‘Teachers should give of themselves. The teacher should give of himself to the student body, the faculty, the administration, and the community. It is good to be involved in various school and community functions.’ In the meanwhile set a good example of yourself for anyone else in the community to follow. Once upon a time, folks, teachers were severely restricted. They couldn’t chew, spit, smoke, drink, swear, or fornicate in public places. Teachers did attend church. Now, supposedly, because of your civil rights, teachers are the same as anybody else. I hope you’ll be professional, folks, and carry on correctly anyhow.

The hand went up. Exasperated, Scheetzul said, Yes?"

Are we going to be evaluated upon how and what we do in our off hours?

Teachers are never ‘off.’ It’s essential that you set yourself up as a . . .

Raleigh volunteered, A paragon of virtue.

Yes, of course, said Scheetzul, A paragon of virtue.

Then we are being evaluated on how we behave outside of school.

"You’re being evaluated as a total person. I don’t want a quarter or a half person for eight hours a day. I want to see all of you all the time. You can’t be one thing part of the time and another the other time. You must give of yourself wholly all of the time.

"Another thing, folks, if you can’t say something good about the children, your colleagues, your administrators, the board, or the school, then don’t say anything at all.

In conclusion, Scheetzul had gone on reading and explaining for more than three hours, remember, folks, ’A good school is a happy school because happiness is the bed fellow of sacrifice, a desire to help others, and hard work. Happiness results from all of us pull our share of the work load together. Teamwork, that’s the name of the game. Now go on out there and give ‘em h... uh, give ‘em all you’ve got. Scheetzul slammed a fist into the empty air.

By the way, our football squads have been working out a week now. I’ve visited the practice field often. How are they looking, Coach?

They’re looking real fine, Mr. Scheetzul.

That’s what I thought too, Coach. I just wanted these others to hear it said. We‘ll beat ‘em won’t we, Coach?

Sure will.

That’s the spirit. Team work gets ‘em every time.

Welp, Scheetzul said with a feeling of pride, I’ve been beating my gums long enough. Do any of you have any questions?

Instantly Mrs. Wentworth, the junior high English teacher said, What are we going to do about gum chewing?

"What