by Phillip Done
Spiders
When a student screams, “Spider!” go directly to cup. Do not try to teach. Go directly to cup. Watch children jump out of seats and run to spider. Watch children jump backward when they see spider. Hear them scream loudly. Turn cup upside down. Capture spider. Put spider outside. Tell children to sit down. Tell children to sit down again. Then tell children to sit down and stay down. Listen to spider stories for twenty minutes.
Fire Alarms
When you hear the fire alarm, line kids up. Tell kids to stop talking. Walk outside in single file. Tell kids to stop talking. Line up outside. Tell kids to stop talking. Answer “Is this a real fire?” five hundred times.
Bees
When a bee flies in through the window, listen to children scream, “Bee!” over and over. Watch bee fly around room. Watch children fly around room also. Watch Justin start to swat bee. Scream, “Stop that!” Now, watch bee fly around room faster. Do not get cup. Bees do not like cups. Pick up folder. Try to shoo bee out of window with folder. Listen to children laugh at you as you try to shoo bee out the window. When bee is finally outside, listen to bee sting stories for twenty minutes.
Wall Maps
If the wall map falls on you when you pull it down, stop teaching. Listen to children laugh. Try to hang the wall map back up. If you cannot hang the wall map back up, listen to children laugh louder. If you are successful in securing the wall map on the hooks, listen to children beg you to pull the map down again. Do not do it. This is a trick. They want the wall map to fall down on you again.
Snow
When the first snow falls, listen to children scream, “Look! Snow!” Children will ask to go outside. Say no. Children will repeat question. Repeat answer. Warning: Do not walk near your coat or door at this time. If you do, children will think you are going outside and start jumping up and down and wagging their tails.
Lightning
When you see lightning, children will begin to chatter. Do not say, “Quiet.” It does not work. All children talk when they see lightning. You will soon hear thunder. Do not try to squeeze math problems in between lightning and thunder crashes. It does not work either.
Power Outage
If the lights go out, stop teaching immediately. Find flashlight. If you cannot find flashlight, light candle. If candle sets off fire alarm, go outside. If you go outside and there is a snowstorm, go back inside. If lights are still out and bee does not fly into room, but spider crawls on student’s desk and you cannot find the cup, take down wall map and go after spider.
The Thanksgiving Feast
Every November Mrs. Wilson has a huge Thanksgiving feast in her room. For the first three weeks of November, I can hear her kids singing “Over the River and Through the Wood,” while they cut vests out of brown paper bags, string macaroni necklaces, stick feathers into pinecone centerpieces, and pop popcorn (the first Thanksgiving had popcorn). Mrs. Wilson always brings the turkey.
Well, I always have a Thanksgiving feast in my room too. My Thanksgiving feast consists of one bag of Doritos and thirty-two plastic cups. We watch Pocahontas. The drinking fountain is in the hall.
But this year I decided to have a Thanksgiving feast just like Mrs. Wilson’s. Everybody signed up to bring something. And I volunteered to cook the turkey.
Now, I had never cooked a turkey before in my life. Actually, I had never even bought a turkey before. When I was a kid, my mom always got up early on Thanksgiving and had the turkey in the oven before I woke up. I remember she would open the oven door every so often and squirt it with a squirter thing. I’m not sure why, but apparently you need it to cook a turkey.
So the day before our big feast, I drove to Safeway and bought the biggest turkey I could find. It was twenty-five pounds. I bought a big aluminum pan and a squirter like Mom’s, lugged it all home, and put the turkey in the fridge.
The next morning, I got up at five a.m. and took the bird out of the fridge. It was still frozen. I read the instructions on the label.
Cook at 300 degrees. A twenty-five-pound turkey needs six hours to cook.
Six hours! I had to leave for work in two.
I’ll just cook it at a higher temperature, I thought. So I turned the oven up to 400, threw the turkey into the pan, popped the pan into the oven, got the squirter ready, and went to take a shower.
About 30 minutes later, I returned and opened the oven door.
Still frozen.
I filled the squirter with water, sprayed the whole bird, turned the dial up to 500, then left to get dressed.
In half an hour I returned, opened the oven door, and poked the turkey with a fork. Still frozen.
“Damn!” I said.
I had to leave for work in fifteen minutes and my turkey was still frozen. Maybe I’d bought a penguin.
Quickly I turned off the oven, threw the bird back into the fridge, and drove to Safeway. They had two small chickens on the rotisserie.
I looked at the chickens.
Hmm. I thought about it for a second. I could say they were baby turkeys.
No, Sarah would get hysterical. She cried when she found an egg that had fallen out of a tree. Baby turkeys would put her over the edge.
I rang for the butcher.
“Hi. I need a turkey for a Thanksgiving feast. Could you cook one and deliver it to my school?” I asked.
“When do you need it?” he asked.
“Today. At noon.”
He laughed. “Sorry sir. Not enough time.”
“Shoot!” I said.
I walked to the refrigerated aisle. A man was stocking shelves.
“Hi. Do you have any turkey meat?” I asked.
“Sorry. All out, sir,” he answered.
“Darn. Any turkey dogs?”
“Nope. All out of those too. Ran out an hour ago.”
“An hour ago?” I cried.
“Yes, sir. Are you a teacher?”
“Yeah. How’d you know?” I asked.
“You’re the third one this morning.”
A couple of hours later, we began setting up for the feast. The room moms removed aluminum foil and Saran Wrap from trays of carrot sticks and apple slices and cornbread and pumpkin pies and laid the food out on the tables. It was a big spread.
“Hey, Mr. Done, where’s the turkey?” Michael asked.
“Yeah, where’s the turkey?” asked Erika.
I paused. Everyone looked at me.
“Well, boys and girls … ,” I said nervously.
I sighed, bent down, and pulled out a plastic bag from under my desk. I took a big breath.
“Everyone has turkey on Thanksgiving,” I said. “That’s boring. So today I decided we should be really authentic. Today, we are going to have”—I pulled them out of the bag—“—hot dogs!”
“Hot dogs?” they all screamed.
“Sure!” I smiled. “What do you think Squanto ate with all that popcorn?”
Out of Proportion
Mike, Lisa, and I flew to Rome over the Thanksgiving break. I flew free on my dad’s frequent flyer miles. My friends loved the Sistine Chapel and the Colosseum and the Spanish Steps. Unfortunately, I did not see them. I was too busy in the souvenir shops.
I know. It’s bad. Mike and Lisa say I have a problem. You see, whenever I go anywhere, I spend all my time in the souvenir shops. I can’t stay away from them. But you should see my snow globes of the Sistine Chapel and the Colosseum and the Spanish Steps. They’re beautiful.
Of course I don’t buy all this for me. I buy it for school. You never know when you might need a placemat of the pope or two hundred slides of Saint Peter’s, right?
When I returned home, I gathered my students on the carpet to tell them all about my trip.
“Guess where Mr. Done went for vacation?” I asked. “I’ll give you a clue. It’s in Italy.”
“Rome?” Nicole guessed.
“Very good,” I said.
I pulled down the world map (very carefully) and pointed to Italy.<
br />
“Now,” I said, “one of the most famous artists who ever lived is a man named Michelangelo. Have any of you heard of Michelangelo?”
Emily raised her hand.
“Good, Emily. Now, many of Michelangelo’s works are in Rome, and I saw some of them. And I brought some things to show you.”
I pulled a poster out of my bag and unrolled it.
“This is the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel,” I said.
“That’s neat,” said Kenny.
“Michelangelo painted this ceiling,” I said and explained a little of the ceiling’s history and what each panel on the ceiling represented.
“Now, boys and girls,” I continued, “I learned some interesting things about Michelangelo’s works when I was in Rome. When you look at some of his works, you will see that not everything is in proportion. Do you know what it means when something is ‘out of proportion’?”
No answer.
“Well,” I explained, “When something is out of proportion, that means that something is too big or too small in comparison to the other parts. For example, if you’re looking at a statue of a person and the feet look too small, then we say the feet are ‘out of proportion’ with the rest of the body.”
“Oh, I get it,” Peter said.
“Now,” I continued, “sometimes Michelangelo painted or sculpted out of proportion.”
I pulled out a postcard of David (waist up).
“This is Michelangelo’s David,” I explained. “Do you notice anything unusual?”
“His hand is too big,” said Isabel.
“You’re right, Isabel.”
“Oh yeah,” said Joshua.
“You see, David’s hand is out of proportion,” I said.
Next I pulled out a miniature statue of Michelangelo’s Pietà.
“This is Michelangelo’s Pietà,” I said. “Michelangelo sculpted it when he was very young. Now look at Mary’s body. It is very big. If she were to stand up, she’d be very tall. Now look at her head.”
“It’s too small,” said Nicole.
“You’re absolutely right, Nicole. Mary’s head is too small compared to the rest of her body. Her head is out of proportion. Everyone understand?”
“Uh-huh,” they all answered.
Peter raised his hand.
“Yes, Peter?” I asked.
“Mr. Done, I see another place where Michelangelo is out of proportion,” he said.
“You do?” I asked, surprised. “Where?”
“In the Sistine Chapel,” said Peter.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
He hesitated.
“Uh … well … I don’t mean to be naughty,” Peter said slowly, “but isn’t that out of proportion?” And he pointed right between Adam’s legs.
I looked at the print. Peter was right. It was out of proportion.
Then Justin shouted, “It’s too small!”
“Yeah, it’s too small,” said Matthew. “My dad’s is—”
“Thank you, Matthew,” I said, cutting him off. “That’s your daddy’s business.”
“Mr. Done, your face is red,” said Nicole.
“It’s hot in here,” I replied, loosening my tie. “Open the window.”
“I’m not hot,” Emily said.
I took a big breath.
“OK, everyone,” I announced, “I think that’s enough art history for the day. Back to your seats.”
I knew I should have shown the snow globes.
Airplane Trip
On our flight home from Rome, I had the funniest feeling that I was at school. Then it dawned on me. Being on an airplane is the same as being in the classroom.
First, the passengers walk in carrying their bags. They walk in single file. As they file in, flight attendants stand at the entrance and say, “Good morning.” They are smiling.
The passengers put their bags into cubbies. They sit in rows. Some do not want to be sitting by the person who is seated next to them. Some of their knees do not fit under the tables.
The flight attendants walk down the aisles handing out papers and reading material. They look at your chair to see if you are seated properly. They answer questions and repeat themselves a lot. When they give the safety lesson, the passengers do not listen.
If you look around, you will see that some of the passengers are reading. Some are sleeping. Some are talking. Some are looking out the window. Hopefully no one is throwing up.
In the classroom the kids who need the most “attention” always sit by the teacher. In the plane the kids who need the most “attention” always sit by me too. It doesn’t matter where I sit. They find me. I think that after I sit down, the flight attendant puts a sign over my seat that says, “He plays rock, paper, scissors.”
During the flight, you have to sit while you eat your snack. You cannot use your cellphone. Your lunch comes on a tray. You cannot flush things down the toilet. And if you walk outside during the flight, you are in trouble.
When the flight is over, everyone wants to leave as soon as possible. But the passengers must remain seated until the flight attendants say they can go. When it is time to leave, some passengers push and shove. Some forget their coats.
The flight attendants stand at the front door again and say, “Good-bye,” and, “Have a nice day!” They are smiling because they are happy that all the passengers are going home. Tomorrow they will do it all over again.
Winter
The Looks
One day my student teacher Amy put her head down on her desk.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” she cried. She lifted her head up. “Justin is constantly out of his seat, Peter tried to turn me off with the remote, Sarah was crying again, Brian drew red dots all over himself and said he has the chicken pox, and right in the middle of my math lesson, you know what Carlos asked me?”
“What?” I asked.
“Do crocodiles have butts?”
I bit my lip. “Sounds normal.” I smiled.
“I don’t think I will ever be a teacher.” She sighed.
“Sure you will,” I said. “You’re good. Listen, teaching is ninety percent natural and ten percent learned. You have the ninety percent. Now you just need to learn a few tools, that’s all.”
“But I don’t know what to do,” she cried. “I try, but sometimes they just won’t listen.”
“The problem is you don’t have the looks down yet,” I said.
“The what?”
“The looks,” I repeated. “Every teacher has a collection of looks. You have to, or you won’t survive.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Let me explain. Basically there are five different teacher looks. The first look is called the Raised Eyebrow.”
“The what?”
“The Raised Eyebrow,” I repeated. “It’s easy. Simply raise both eyebrows as high as you can. Do not speak. Keep your head perfectly still. Stare at the child for five to ten seconds.”
“When do you give the Raised Eyebrow?” Amy asked.
“When Justin is writing on his desk or Stephen is playing with his rubber band.”
Amy grabbed a pen and began writing this down. I continued.
“The second look is the Chin Up. This one’s a bit more difficult to master. For the Chin Up, raise your chin slowly. While you’re raising your chin, raise your eyebrows at the same time.”
I demonstrated.
“See?” I said.
“Yes,” said Amy. She made some more notes. “But when do I use the Chin Up?”
“When Ronny stabs Brian with a paper clip on the way to the pencil sharpener, or Carlos tells Sarah to put her finger in the stapler.”
“I see,” Amy said.
“But don’t confuse the Chin Up with the Chin Down,” I said. “The Chin Down is for not doing your homework, or for emptying the pencil sharpener on the counter. When giving the Chin Down, tilt your head down till
it touches your chest. Your lips will automatically pucker up a bit as you lower your chin. Raise your eyebrows and cock your chin slightly to the left. Stare at the student for three to five seconds. For greatest effect, stare over the rim of your glasses like this …”
I lowered my frames, lowered my chin, raised my eyebrows, and froze.
“See?” I said.
“Got it.” Amy nodded. She kept writing.
I continued, “The fourth look is the Pursed Lip. To give the Pursed Lip, simply pucker your lips together tightly while staring at the student. Furl your eyebrows as hard as you can, and breathe in deeply so that the student hears you. But do not let the air out right away. Hold your breath for two to three seconds.”
“When do I use the Pursed Lip?” Amy asked.
“When Brian pulls the fire alarm, or Joey uses the library windows as a ball wall,” I answered.
“What’s the last look?” Amy asked.
“The Jaw Drop,” I answered. “This one’s easy. Just open your mouth, look horrified, and freeze for three to five seconds. I gave the Jaw Drop twice last week—once when Joshua pushed Natalie into the boys’ bathroom, and once when Melanie took Penelope outside without asking, then came back and told me she couldn’t find her.”
“Of course,” I continued, “there are variations on all five looks. The Pursed Lip works well when tapping the desk or the whiteboard or the student’s shoulder. The Raised Eyebrow is highly effective when accompanied with shouting the student’s name. And the Jaw Drop is successful when you put both hands on your head. See?”
I demonstrated.
“Yes. Yes, I see,” said Amy. “That’s good.”
“The Jaw Drop is one of my best,” I said.
“But I’m not sure if I can learn all these,” Amy whined, putting her pen down.
“Sure you can. Of course you won’t learn them all at once. They take years to master. Why don’t you try some of them tomorrow?” I suggested.
“OK,” she said. “I will.”
The next morning at nine fifteen, Stephen pulled out a rubber band. Amy looked over at me. I gave her a wink and a thumbs-up. She walked right over to Stephen and raised her eyebrows. I looked at the clock. She held them up for seven seconds. She looked like she just had a bad face-lift, but seven seconds is great for one’s first Raised Eyebrow.