Letting her Down
In middle school, my social studies/language arts teacher, Ms. Ava, would hold an art competition every time we finished a section for social studies. And I remember seeing these abstract, colorful, and unique interpretations from every student put down onto one piece of paper. For the artsy students, this was one of the most exciting days at school, I certainly remember my facial expressions every time this occasion came around. A cheeky grin from ear to ear, my mind racing exuberantly a million miles a minute with ideas for my new artwork. The first place winner would receive a king-sized Hershey's chocolate bar, and second and third would both receive a regular sized chocolate bar. Once the art pieces were submitted, my teacher would hang them outside the classroom and call each student in pairs to vote on their favorite one. I had gotten first place back to back through out the school year. Naturally, I had become one of her favorite students, not only because of the art competition, but also for being well-behaved. I was proud of what I had accomplished and it made me feel that much more special knowing I would never let Ms. Ava down.
It was finals week at Crews Middle School, and I had been studying diligently to ace all of my exams. Not only was it finals week but it was also the last week of school. Once this week had arrived I noticed a strong yet relieved aura emanating from each kid around the school. Metaphorically, we had reached the finish line for the school year, however in actuality I'm positive each and every kid felt more as if they'd been unchained, no longer a prisoner to this schools exhausting grasp. I remember vividly each night, making piles of flashcards stacking miles high, and having a warm cup of coffee on standby in case I felt the creeping cold fog of sleep. I woke up each morning feeling groggy from lack of sleep, but I endured knowing that this week would open up the large golden door to a beautiful 2 month long vacation uninterrupted by class and early morning fatigues. I counted every minute of every hour of every day, the excitement of summer was so irresistible that my impatience had far outgrown my determination. However, I endured these feelings and kept my rhythm for each day, but perhaps my feelings of impatience had caused me to be too careless.
Before I realized it, I was on the bus, mind hazy and this enormous weight on my eye lids. The soft hiss of the pressure mechanism opened the bus door slowly. I wearily stood up from my seat, walked off the bus, and into the cold morning air. After 3 minutes of an exhausting walk, I had finally arrived at Ms. Ava's classroom. I plopped down in my chair, pulling out my pencil from my pocket and waiting for Ms. Ava to announce when we would be starting the first of two exams that day. Eventually everyone seemed to be sat at their tables and ready to go, Ms. Ava taking notice, handed out pencils and scratch paper to anyone who needed it. And lastly, she took out a stack of paper the width of a brick and handed everyone their copy of the exam. I furrowed my brow with determination, put my exhaustion aside, and began to read. After an hour and ten minutes of grueling focus, I immediately put my head down and closed my eyes. Ms. Ava collected the papers after the allotted time, and everyone was free to enjoy their 10 minute break before the last exam. I had grouped up with one of my friends, James, and discussed our individual answers on the exam. I had noticed he left his blank scratch paper out on his desk and decided to doodle on it. Often times, we would draw phallic-shaped figures disguised as something innocent like a farmer with a really big nose. And this time was no different, so we both began our little match of who could be the most clever. After a couple minutes of frivolous drawing, we both agreed to get rid of the evidence by tearing up the page into what we thought were a million little pieces. I looked at James and asked worriedly, " That should be good enough right?" he responded confidently, "You'd have to be Sherlock Holmes to put these pieces back together."
After that, the whole classroom lined up to leave for the last and final exam. James and I walked out the room and lined up to the class next door, which was where our next exam would take place. I was chatting with James in line about his plans for summer, when suddenly I heard a shout with such anger and authority that it froze the whole hallway with awe and concern. "Dylan and James come down here right now!" My heart started pounding rapidly and my knees felt weak with fear, it was as if I'd realized I had no parachute after diving head first off an airplane soaring millions of miles off the ground. I turned around; it was Ms. Ava and I could see her death stare shooting right through me, knowing exactly why. Not wanting to prolong this stare-down any longer, I shamefully walked forward with James following behind me. She took us into her classroom and sharply pointed to a small torn up piece of paper that I quickly recognized. I could see visible anger and frustration on her face. At the time, I was too fear-stricken to notice but deep down under the frustration I could see a faint look of disappointment and betrayal. Up until this point, I had only heard positive things said to me from Ms. Ava, and expectedly I felt this overwhelming, rushing wave of guilt. I was instructed to go to the administrators office after finishing my last exam.
From then on until I went to the administrators office, my mind was a hurricane of paranoia and fears about the possibilities of punishment. After barely completing my last exam, I slowly headed towards the administrators office, each step getting ten times heavier as I got closer. While on my walk to the office I thought to myself," Could a small drawing really get me into this much trouble? What will Ms. Ava think of me now?" I walked into the small confined office with two brown leather chairs and the administrators black square office desk. She casually looked up from her laptop and asked me to explain to her what had just transpired. I spilled the whole story in detail occasionally pausing from the trouble I had swallowing after each sentence. After hearing my explanation she calmly said," Well, you will have you call your mother and tell her exactly what you told me." A small but refreshing feeling of relief washed over me. I had imagined detention or in school suspension, but calling my mom was just as worrying. After I calmly explained to my mom, she told me I would have to come talk to her once I returned home. After I hung up and returned to my classroom, all I could think about was what had just happened and how sudden it was. This wasn't my first time getting sent to the office, but the look of betrayal from Ms. Ava's face was burned into my memory along with the heart-pounding event. For the most part all my worries had quietly faded away but my shame and guilt still resided. I got home and my mom gave me the lightest slap on the wrist for getting in trouble at school, and I went on to enjoy my summer worry free. For the remainder of my middle school years I still felt guilt passing by Ms. Ava's old classroom, and still pondered on whether or not she had forgiven me.
Picture Citation:
"SDA classroom" by bagaball is licensed under CC BY 2.0.
