The Teacher (a short story)

Picture: LinkedIn Sales Solutions on Unsplash

Andrea sat hunched at her desk, leafing through the photocopies. A colleague walked past and Andrea put her head down eager to avoid conversation or eye contact. She glanced at her watch. Finally, it was time for class. Andrea gathered the papers and hopped out of her chair with unexpected energy. She rose to full height before marching down the hallway into the classroom. Waist-high children were beginning to stroll, jump, or slump into the room. Andrea looked at them and broke into an uncontrolled grin. Her eyes became bright and lively, flitting from one child to the next, taking in each one.

‘Afternoon, friends!’ Andrea’s voice rang over the clamour. ‘How was lunch?’

She was greeted with excited outbursts about various playground hijinks and who ate what. Andrea drew breath and felt strength enter her body. Most of her friends couldn’t believe she was a teacher – or a good one anyway. How could quiet, reclusive Andrea manage to teach primary school students? 

‘It must be exhausting for you,’ her friend, Sam, had consoled. On the contrary, it was in the classroom was where Andrea felt most comfortable. This was where she loved to be.

After class, Craig, the headteacher was standing at Andrea’s desk. He smiled as Andrea approached and she felt a sudden urge to U-turn.

‘I’ve got a great opportunity for you,’ he began keenly. ‘EDC is running a state-wide conference in July and they want me to nominate a teacher to run one of the workshops. I think you’d be perfect.’ He showed her a flyer and workshop guide. ‘It pays well,’ he added.

Andrea’s pulse quickened. She swallowed. ‘I don’t think I can make it.’

‘Oh, that’s a shame.’ Craig looked disappointed but not surprised. ‘I’ve seen you teach and I’ve seen your research. I really think you have a lot to offer.’ He placed the papers on her desk and turned to go. ‘I’ll just leave those there in case you’re able to change your schedule.’

As Andrea drove home she felt a gnawing in her stomach. The conference would be an amazing opportunity. It was true she had so many ideas to share and she’d love to help younger teachers the way she was helped. It would also look good on her resume. The excuse she’d given Craig was a lie (she had absolutely nothing planned in the July break) and Craig probably knew that. So along with the anxiety, she was also guilt-ridden and embarrassed.

It wasn’t the public speaking that brought on the butterflies (that was something she could control pretty well) it was the socialising and networking—which were inevitable at conferences, particularly when one is a speaker. Social situations were a nightmare for Andrea: she never knew what to say or she would say the wrong thing.

 

Saturday morning. Head down, Andrea journaled as she sat tucked into a corner at her usual table in the café.

‘I don’t hate people,’ she told herself. ‘Look, there are people all around here.’

              Of course, she never interacted with them.

Suddenly, she was conscious of a body looming above her. She looked up as a young man with black clothes and a huge grin beamed down at her.

‘Ms Green!’

It took a second before Andrea recognised the lanky youth as one of her former students. The big-eyed boy with messy hair still had big eyes and messy hair, but he had elongated.

‘Jordan, it’s so great to see you!’ Andrea noticed patchy stubble on his chin and felt a slight pang of nostalgia.

‘I just finished my shift and saw you.’ Jordan plopped into the seat across from her. ‘Got a part-time job.’

 ‘What grade are you in now?’

‘Eleventh,’ he announced. ‘Almost there. I’m trying to decide whether to study social work or psychology when I go to uni. Or teaching!’ His grin widened.

Andrea marvelled at his easy manner and confidence.

Jordan leaned forward then and looked her right in the eyes. ‘You’re the best teacher I’ve had. Truly.’ He wasn’t smiling anymore. ‘You made me feel like I really belonged in class. You’re the one who encouraged me to get out of my shell. “Action breeds confidence and courage”—that quote stuck with me.’

‘Dale Carnegie—yes,’ Andrea mused. She recalled how, for half a year, Jordan avoided participating in class and never did homework.

‘In your class, I realised that I could try new things and not worry if I failed. Last year I even joined the debate team! Can you believe it?’ He chuckled and hopped out of the chair. ‘Anyway, thanks so much, Ms Green. I wouldn’t be who I am without you. Gotta go now—Mum’s picking me up.’ He disappeared before Andrea could say goodbye. 

Andrea blinked. Had she really had such an impact on Jordan? She smiled and shook her head. She had remembered the lessons Jordan referred to but now she felt them being incisively applied to herself. She always taught her students to be brave. She built up their confidence when they had none. Why hadn’t she taught it to herself?

Before she could change her mind, Andrea picked up her phone. ‘Action breeds confidence and courage,’ she chanted to herself as she pressed the number and waited.

‘Hi, Craig. It's Andrea. I’d like to accept the workshop opportunity.’

***

This story is fictional, though it does reflect some experiences and thoughts I've had as a teacher.  

• Do you feel like a different person in and out of the classroom?
• Have you ever found that you needed to teach yourself your own lesson?
• What unexpected impacts have you had on your students?