June 9, 2006

• Garage Days

  My garage door bit me. It wasn’t the garage door’s fault. I could have gone out the front door, and avoided the whole problem; or, I could have just left the garage door up. But no. You see, the electric opener for the door was inoperative due to a piece of connecting metal snapping apart. When I returned from the Elizabeth interview on Tuesday, I parked in the driveway (which I don’t usually get to do) and decided that I would open the door. Later, shortly after I last posted, I had to leave for work, so I exited through the garage and decided to close the door. However, my right hand was occupied. The smartest thing to do would have been to leave the door open, since all the kids were home. The next-smartest thing would have been to deposit the contents of my right-hand (a leftover breakfast sandwich and cup of coffee) in my car and then at least have both hands available for the door-closing procedure. Instead, I tried to lower the door with just my left hand. I did not have full control, and I was trying to hold it by the hinge between the lower and middle panels. Now, guess what happened…

  
  

  The garage door fell shut, alright. Unfortunately, the tips of my middle and ring finger were caught in abovementioned hinge. Not only did they hurt like hell, but I couldn’t extract them. I was stuck, kneeling in my driveway, two fingers of my left hand stuck in the garage door. I started to panic only because I didn’t think I could get anyone’s attention. After a minute or so of banging on the door, I did. Soon enough all four kids and two neighbors were out. Their first idea was to try raising the door, which I quickly and vehemently instructed them NOT to do, as I had already gingerly tried and found that it only tightened the hinge. I reached in my pocket to retrieve my cell phone, handed it to Dora and instructed her to call 911.

  
  

  Soon enough, Litteton Fire Rescue were on their way. I couldn’t wait for them to get there, obviously. I could feel myself tingling all over, on top of the pain; I knew I was losing circulation in that hand. But they arrived within 2-3 minutes. I had no idea how they were going to extricate me, but as it turns out, all it took was a simple crowbar, prying up the aluminum enough for me to yank my hand out. They warned me that it would damage the door; at that point, I didn’t care if they demolished the damn door! But the damage is fairly minimal, I think. In any case, the door came out of it much better than my fingers.

  
  

  To make the story stranger, it was actually Maria’s ex-husband who took me to the hospital. He had come to pick up Corin for the night and just happened to arrive in the middle of the scene. I wasn’t too picky, after the firemen had informed me that an ambulance ride would put us back around $600. (Who knew? I didn’t…) I walked into the ER, checked in, and soon enough Maria arrived. Though she was more amused than sympathetic– OK, it wasn’t my most brilliant move – she did stay by my side. Amazingly enough, my entire time in the ER only lasted a bit over two hours, during which they took X-rays, saw nothing broken, gave me some Vicodin, and wrapped the two fingers up in what they call “birdcages.”

  
  

  We went home, ate dinner, and soon enough I was feeling downright wobbly from the drug. I lied down and passed out. I had another interview the next day, at 1 p.m. I didn’t want to have to explain, plus they really got in the way when driving, so I decided to take off the birdcages. However, I wore them again when I returned to work the next day after that, and repeated the story roughly 47 times that day.

  
  

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  The interview was at The Manning School in Jeffco. As part of Jeffco Public Schools, Manning is public, but requires an application process for admission, as it is an “options” school. Manning draws a high-achieving student population; between 85-93% of its students are proficient or advanced on each area of the CSAP, which is 20-30% more than you’ll find at any “good” regular middle school. Yes, it is a middle school, 7th and 8th grades only. In 2004-5 it had a total enrollment of 312, which is less than half the size of Deer Creek Middle School, where I student-taught.

  
  

  I arrived right on time for the interview at 1 p.m. School is out for the summer and teachers had long left the building, so I was faced with just the AP who called me and the principal himself. We sat down and I noticed they had no list of questions in front of them. They quickly told me that this would be a less formal interview– and it was. It was more a conversation. They did ask some general questions, but it was more about my experience and views. They actually went through my résumé, which was refreshing– in the past, I’d begun to get the impression that they didn’t really count for anything. I got the chance I’d been waiting for– the opportunity to actually talk about myself and my professional concept of being a teacher. I even got to talk about our kids and their own struggles in school, and give some perspective about how I see issues from both sides, as teacher and parent.

  
  

  The interview time ended, but the principal wanted to take me on a tour of the school, which I saw as a good sign. Then he had me sit down in his office to talk a bit more, which was even more encouraging. I was feeling pretty confident but I didn’t want to get my hopes too high.

  
  

  At 8:37 a.m. the next morning– Thursday, June 8, 2006– my phone rang. I picked up and hear the voice of Mr. Sargent, the principal. We exchanged pleasantries after the usual fashion, but those few seconds were killing me. Then came his words: “I want to offer you the job.” I think my response was, “That’s wonderful!”– not “I accept” or “Yes!” but clearly affirmative nonetheless.

  
  

  Just like that, I am a professional teacher. Seventh-grade, three classes of language arts, two classes of social studies (which is world geography at that grade level– one of my favorites). I have my own classroom (I saw it– it’s a mess at the moment, but all I could think of was that it’s mine); come August 22, I’ll have, most importantly of all, my students. Because that’s why we’re there. Sure, we work under the principal, and for the school and district, and in the interest of parents and taxpayers, but ultimately the only people we serve are our students.

  
  

  I attend Jeffco orientation this Monday, and first report to work on August 11 (I think). In the meantime, I’m still working at Target, taking care of the kids who are now home all the time, trying to help Maria cope with waiting for her surgery to be approved by insurance, and adjusting to the obvious nerve damage in my fingertips– it makes them feel sort of like they have a thick bandage on all the time, which does make typing a bit difficult. Probably why, along with sheer laziness, I started writing this post on Friday and will finally publish it publicly right about now…

  • 12:20 pm
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