Page 6 of Between the Lines

“I’ve taught math the same way for forty-two years.Percent of change is the amount of change over the original amount.The absolute value of a number is its distance from zero. I’m not adopting any of this common core crap. Just thought I’d let you know before you came to observe me.”

He crosses his arms, letting them rest on his pot belly, as he teases me with a smug grin. I know exactly what he’s doing. This is less about math, and more entirely about power. Something tells me that he had this conversation with Don, the principal, a long time ago when the curriculum first changed, and he was given free rein to teach however he wanted. I get my confirmation when my silence is too long and he cuts back in.

“Donny was fine with it. I’m just making sure we’re all on the same page. Team effort and all that bullshit, right? You young blood just need to remember who’s been here longer, that’s all.”

I sit stoically, speechless.

As a thirty-five year old coming into a position of power, this is exactly what I was afraid of. Half of the staff is older than I am. A good chunk are around my age. It’s only the first day, and already I’m battling with my worst fear: being in charge of my elders.Being in charge of adultswas never on my bingo card. I never wanted to leave the classroom in the first place. But I can’t change the position I’m currently in.

The chagrin on his face is what eats at me. He knows that, right now, I’m not practiced enough to talk back. To remind him that, despite his tenure in the district, curriculum is part of my jurisdiction as assistant principal. Tension thrums in the vein in my forehead, and I know that’s only adding icing to the cake that Joe is simply devouring.

“Sure,” I nod. “I understand your frustration with the new curriculum. However, Joe, this is what the district purchased. It aligns with where they go next in math, so it would be in your best interest to familiarize yourself with it this year.”

I’m proud of that statement right up until Joe guffaws in my face.

“Well, anyway.”

He slaps both thighs and groans as he lifts himself from the chair.

“Good to see ya settling in. Hope the kids don’t give you too much trouble this week.”

With that, he saunters out of my office.

As soon as he’s gone, I let out a frustrated sigh, cradling my forehead in my hand as I rest my elbow on the desktop before me.

Day one, and the seniors in this building already see me as a joke.

It’s not that Ican’tstand up for myself. It’s that I was caught off-guard—and also that the majority of the senior teachers in this building are all friends with Don. A conversation with him is futile. I thought I’d have more than a day to get my ducks in a row when it came to this matter, but here it is, staring me in the face.

As the assistant principal, the students aren’t even going to be my greatest challenge this year.

four

claire

“To surviving the first day!”

Our circle of teachers clinks celebratory beers to my iced tea, and we all take a sip—some, heftier than others, as I watch Penelope chug back nearly half her beer, go back for more, and eventually finish it.

“I’m getting another round. Who’s in?”

I laugh and shake my head.

“Benson? What are you drinking? What’s your poison?”

“Iced tea,” I say, lifting my glass.

“I’m getting you something stronger.”

“I won’t drink it,” I chuckle.

“No booze for you?” Drake Lawson, the sixth grade Social Studies teacher asks, pressing his elbow into mine and taking a swig of his IPA.

“Nope. I have to babysit tonight. Can’t let the youngins get a leg up on me.”

I tip my iced tea at him and match his eyebrow raise.

“Side job, or…”

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