Growing up, Isabela had a friend who was home schooled, Erin, who, along with her three brothers lived two houses down. At the time, this was enchantingly novel and Isabela would quiz her on things she was learning and how it compared to what was happening in normal school. Place value, state capitols, and spelling tests. It all seemed the same. They even ran into each other once on a fiddle trip to the Great Lake Science Center. Isabela with her entire class and Erin there with her family. They waved and caught each others eye and Isabela's classmates wondered "Where do those kids go to school?"
Sometimes she and Erin would role play teacher with Isabela talking about things not discussed in her cross examination. "We read this book The Giver in class. Did your mom make you read that? Or The Pearl," asked Isabela. When Erin would shake her head, Isabela would pantomime her own teacher and try to sound erudite (a word she had just learned in class) and informed.
Locked in to be a teacher from an early age, Isabela thought that was all that she needed. Be really smart and read a ton of books. She had no clue about curriculum and coaches and state minimum standards. Even when it dawned on her, as an undergrad and then apprenticing, that this was not as romantic as it seemed she swore she would set the world on fire.
Instead, she ran fire drills. Stuck in the awkward in between of idealistic neophyte and grizzled veteran she tried to sail a post pandemic teaching world. "The kids are different" was the common refrain and while she could feel it she hesitated to blame any one thing. When she got her abilities (She hated calling them powers but Drew had begin calling them that and it was easier. "Just call them powers. Its like calling your boyfriend/girlfriend your partner. It seems off," he had chided) she thought it just a novelty. A year into it and she found herself reading less and putting less emphasis on anchor charts and planning. Her sub plans (already strained this year) were spread out across varying cloud drives and a haggard binder fraying at the corners. Her time pivoted to working out and running through stance drills from fencing and diving into busy body apps like Nextdoor and police scanners for info. And, sleep. Which seemed always so furtive.
"Rose and I discussed it," said her principal, May Holden, "And we are going to add an extra observation or two to your class this year."
This brought Isabela into sharp focus with a bruised ego. She played the professional and pliable part while inside she started to bristle "Oh. Wow, I'm sorry. I hate making more work for you. Is something wrong? Did someone complain? Am I ok?"
May leaned back in the student chair by Isabela's desk. Fifteen years in this and still it was a whole new world when trying to sit in a kid chair. "Well, can we real talk?"
Real talk was a custom secret school term for "lets cut to the chase" or "just be honest." At an elevated form it was "Candid is clear and clear is kind" which was the take away from a surpassingly engaging in service training a year ago.
Isabela nodded and didn't realize it but also inhaled sharply like belaying a sniffle. She was happy this was happening in her classroom and afterschool. She prepared herself to be gutted and could not have carried that into class if this happened during a planning period.
"You are almost out of PTO and its only mid October. You show up with just minutes to spare most days if not right as kids are walking in. I have parents, and not just the crazy ones, saying you don't respond to emails. I see how good you are with the kids but I also know you are watching a lot more movies in class or handing out work sheets." May put her hands on the table and reached forward as if she wanted Isabela to take them. When she did not and Isabela kept her arms folded across her stomach, May grimaced and pulled them back "Like, is everything ok? At home? You don't need to tell me but maybe Rose can help or I can get HR from the model involved. We just want to get ahead of anything."
"Ahead of what?" Isabela felt herself get very small inside.
May took a deep breath. "Before this becomes a thing, Isa. Before I have to write you up for being late or showing up everyday in yoga pants and a sweatshirt. Before I need you to write down in a little spreadsheet what you did every minute of the day. I feel like I'm losing one of my best teachers and I don't know why."
The sincerity defused the building ire in Isabela. She could take it from students whose cruelty was candid (Remember, candid is clear and clear is kind) but she realize she was quick to be defensive with everyone else. Not yet beyond it but recognized it. May's empathy did melt all that and she felt her eyes billow with tears. She wiped them away before anything major but felt the heat in her face and how it must look. "I appreciate that. I really do. Home is fine. I've just been distracted." Isabela offered no excuse why "I have just taken this all for granted I guess, but, go it. Its fine. You, assistant principal, HR, anyone is welcome to observe. I appreciate it. Life long learning, right" The weight of every choice in last two years centered itself on Isabela's stomach. When school and "work" had intertwined before it had been on her terms with Carlos on the roof. Now, it felt naked and sudden and pointless. What was she doing anyway?
May sensed the conversation had run its course. "Ok, we will book it. And you will know ahead of time for sure." It was another bit of kindness Isabela now felt unworthy of getting. "And I was honest when I think you are one of the best. Real talk."
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