Page 33 of Make It Without You

“Don’t forget, that open house is tonight. I’d love to see your faces and meet your parents.” I announce it to my kids as a final reminder at the end of the day.

“Bye, Ms. Bailey,” they say in unison as they walk out of the door.

My fourth year of teaching has just started and I’m feeling good about it. These kids make my days better. Yes, they can test my patience like no other, but when it comes down to it they’re all eager to learn. And I’m eager to teach them.

They may be first graders, but I plan on slipping some real-life information into their brains. And that’s what I plan on talking about at the open house. I want the parents to know what I have planned for them. Where I studied, where I come from, and why I got into teaching. I want the parents of my students to know that they can come to me with whatever.

A knock on my door pulls me out of my head. “Hey, are you ready for tonight?” Melissa the teacher across the hall asks me. Since we both started teaching the same year at this school, we’ve become close.

“Yeah. But I’ll probably come back before and finish setting up. Are you up for dinner before then?” I ask while putting some of my things in my tote bag.

“Mm-hmm. Just let me go home and get a shower to change and then we’ll meet up.”

“Sounds like a plan. See you in a bit.” I wave her off before putting my focus back on my things.

Before I walk out of my classroom, I make a physical list of what I need to do before tonight. It’s not much, but once I have all of that down, I head out.

I’m sothankful that my apartment isn’t too far from the school. It’s about fifteen minutes, but with traffic, the drive can take up to thirty minutes. That’s living in the city for you.

When I open the door to my apartment my cat, Biscuit, greets me with a meow for food. “Hi, sweet girl.”

I pick her up and smother her with some kisses before setting her down to get ready.

I’m still living in the apartment that my parents chose for me when I left Pennsylvania. It’s got exposed brick on the walls that line the fully equipped kitchen, an airy living room, a spacious primary bedroom, and a guest room that primarily serves as Biscuit’s room. Each floor only has two units which makes living here a peaceful place. I’ve thought about moving and getting a house, but it’s just me and my cat. I have no need for a bigger space when everything fits in my room and the spare room.

Thirty minutes later I’m dressed and ready to meet Melissa. We meet at a fast food Italian restaurant and then talk about little things. Melissa is from Arizona, but she went to school in Ohio. She never planned to move back home unless she hadto, but the stars aligned for her and here she is. She and her boyfriend of four years live together and they have plans to start looking for a house soon.

Do I feel a pang of sadness…even jealousy when I hear this? Of course. Because that should be me and despite the envy, I’m happy for my new friend.

An hour later, we’re both back at the school along with some other teachers putting the final touches on our rooms. Music is blasting through the intercom making our tasks that much easier. At fifteen minutes til, the principal comes over the intercom to turn off the music and let us know that it’s almost time.

I never remember my open houses to be like this. This nervous energy of meeting the person who’s responsible for your child for seven hours. Of course, I can hardly remember that far back…so maybe I’ll have to ask my parents if they remember anything.

Whipping out my phone, I quickly send a text to my girls.

Me: Drinks tonight? I have an open house and I’m gonna need something stronger than water.

Jax: I’m in!

Sarah: Me too!

Kam: No question about it

Me: Yay! I’ll let you know when I’m done. Usual place? Monty’s?

Jax: *thumbs up emoji*

Sarah: Ditto

Kam: *pointing up arrow*

“I knowit’s tough to put this much trust in a fourth-year teacher. It’s even difficult because I’m still young. But I promise, I will help your child through everything,” I address the room of parents that have raised some concerns.

“What about loss? I know this isn’t your area of expertise, but I’m wondering how you’ll handle it. My teachers never really understood. So, say an older relative passes and our child is sad about it. You’re not a counselor. But are we supposed to think that you’re equipped to handle something like this, or have even gone through something like that?” A parent voices.

I take a cleansing breath and walk over to sit on top of my desk while addressing the parents. “My fiancé died in a car accident. I heard every form of condolence and sayings thatyou’re still here. As if telling me that I’m still here was going to help. It was tough to go through. I retreated for a while and I’ll understand if your kid does too. I’m not saying that my loss is any different from any of your child’s potential losses, but I will help them through that. Without knowing it, your kids have helped me immensely.

“When you pull your child out of class, I will understand. I will work with them when they return to catch them up. If your child breaks down in class because they miss them, I understand too. I’m not here to judge your children. I’m here to help them and teach them. Real life experiences are never too soon to begin even with them being so young. And even for them to learn that loss does happen, and that they will get through it.”

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