“I’ve got another class. I’ll catch you later.” Victoria nodded, and walked down the hall to the lounge. It was deserted. Everyone had gone to lunch, and she was trying not to. She had brought an apple in her briefcase and had vowed to be good. She sat munching it as she read the papers. And once again, they were surprisingly good. She had some very bright students. She just hoped she was bright enough to teach them and hold their interest for the entire year. She was feeling very unsure of herself. Now that she was faced with a classroom full of real people, this was much harder than she had anticipated, and it was going to take more than just discipline to keep them in line. Helen had given her some helpful hints, and Carla Bernini had set up the syllabus before going on maternity leave, but Victoria knew that she had to infuse her classes with life and excitement in order to keep the kids hooked. And she was scared to death that she wasn’t good enough to do it and would fail. She wanted to be good at it more than anything. She didn’t care how little the job paid, this was her vocation, and she wanted to be a great teacher, the kind kids remembered for years. She had no idea if she could do it, but she was trying her best. And this was only the beginning. The school year had just started.
For the next two weeks, Victoria fought to keep her students’ attention. She confiscated cell phones and BlackBerrys, she gave them tough assignments, and one day when her sophomore class was too restless, she took them for a walk around the neighborhood, and made them write about it. She tried to come up with every creative idea she could, and to get to know every one of her students in all four classes, and she began to get the feeling after two months that some of them liked her. She racked her brain on the weekends searching for ideas for them, new books to read, and new projects. And sometimes she surprised them with unexpected quizzes and assignments. There was nothing dull about her classes. And by late November, she felt like she was beginning to get somewhere with them and win their respect. Not all of her students liked her, but at least they were paying attention and responding to her. By the time she got on the plane to go home for the Thanksgiving holiday, she had a feeling of accomplishment, until she saw her father. He looked at her with surprise when he met her at the airport with her mother and Grace, who hurled herself into Victoria’s arms with glee, as her big sister kissed her.
“Wow! The ice cream must be good in New York,” he commented, grinning broadly, and her mother looked pained, not at his comment but at Victoria’s appearance. She had gained back everything she lost, while correcting papers at night and on weekends and working on her classes. She had been living on Chinese takeout, and double chocolate milk shakes. The diet she kept meaning to start just hadn’t happened. Her whole focus had been on her classes and her students and not on herself. And she kept eating all the wrong foods to give herself energy, comfort, and strength.
“I guess so, Dad,” Victoria said vaguely.
“Why don’t you steam fish and vegetables, dear?” her mother said. Victoria marveled that after not seeing her for almost three months, her weight was all they could think about. Gracie just looked at her and beamed. She didn’t care what size Victoria was, she just loved her. The two sisters walked off arm in arm toward the baggage claim, happy to be back together.
On Thanksgiving day, Victoria helped her mother cook the turkey, and she enjoyed the day and the meal with them, miraculously without negative comments from her father. The weather was balmy and warm, and they sat in the backyard afterward, and her mother asked her about her teaching.
“Do you like it?” She was still puzzled why her daughter would want to be a teacher.
“I love it.” She grinned at her sister then. “And my sophomore students are horrible. They’re all little monsters like you. I confiscate their iPods all the time, so they’ll listen to me.”
“Why don’t you make them write lyrics?” Gracie suggested as her older sister looked at her in amazement. “That’s what my teacher did, and we loved it.”
“That’s brilliant!” Victoria could hardly wait to try it on them. She had been planning to have her juniors and seniors write poetry in the weeks before Christmas. But lyrics for the sophomores was a great idea. “Thank you, Gracie.”
“Just ask me about the sophomores,” she said proudly, since she was one herself.
Her father managed to stay off the subject of her weight for the rest of the visit, and her mother discreetly said that she should go to Overeaters Anonymous, which really hurt Victoria’s feelings, but other than that, it was a warm, comfortable weekend, especially with Gracie. And they all drove her back to the airport on Sunday. She was planning to come back in four weeks to spend Christmas with them, so this time their goodbyes weren’t tearful. She was going to spend the whole vacation with them, since they had two weeks off school. And on the plane on the way back to New York, she thought again about Gracie’s suggestion to have the sophomores write lyrics.
She presented the idea to her sophomore class on Wednesday morning, and they looked ecstatic. It was something they could really wrap their minds around, and for once they looked enthusiastic about an assignment. Her juniors and seniors were less thrilled with the poetry they had to write, and she was starting to help some of them with their essays for their college applications. She had her hands full.
The lyrics the sophomores wrote for her were terrific. One boy brought a guitar in, and they tried to put music to some of his words. The assignment was a huge success, and they asked if they could extend the project until Christmas vacation, and she agreed. And she gave most of them excellent grades for what they did. She had never given so many As. And the poetry assignments were surprisingly good too. By Christmas vacation, Victoria felt as though she had won their confidence, and all of them were behaving better in her classroom. Helen had noticed it too. The students looked happy and enthusiastic now when they left her room.
“What did you do to them? Give them drugs?”
“I took my fifteen-year-old sister’s suggestion. I’ve had the sophomores writing lyrics,” Victoria said proudly, and Helen was impressed by her creativity.
“That’s pure genius. I wish I could do that in my class.”
“I stole the idea from my sister’s teacher. But it worked. And the older kids have been writing poetry. A few of them really have talent.”
“So do you,” Helen said with a look of admiration. “You’re a damn good teacher. I hope you know that. And I’m happy that you’re learning to control the class. It’s better for them, and you. Even at their age, they need boundaries, discipline, and structure.”
“I’ve been working on it,” Victoria said honestly, “but sometimes I think I really screw up. There’s a lot more creativity to teaching than I originally thought.”
“We all screw up,” Helen said candidly. “That doesn’t make you a bad teacher. You keep trying and you find what works till you win them over. That’s the best you can do.”
“I love what I’m doing,” she said happily, “even if they drive me crazy sometimes. But they don’t seem as cocky lately. One of the kids even wants to go to Northwestern because I said I loved the school.” Helen was smiling at her as she listened. She could see Victoria’s passion for her profession in her eyes, and it warmed Helen’s heart.
“I hope Eric is smart enough to hire you permanently after Carla comes back. He’ll be crazy if he loses you,” Helen said warmly.
“I’m just grateful to be here. We’ll see what happens about next year.” She knew that contracts would be offered in March and April, and she didn’t know if they’d have an opening for her. She hoped so, but nothing was sure. For now, it was working, for her and the kids and the school. Eric Walker, the headmaster, had been hearing good things about her from the students. And two of the parents had commented that they liked her assignments. She really inspired the kids, and when necessary she pushed them. She thought outside the box, and wasn’t afraid to try new things. She was exactly the kind of teacher they wanted.
And she had stopped eating quite as voraciously after Thanksgiving. Her father’s comment, and her mother’s suggesting Overeaters Anonymous, had slowed her down a little. She hadn’t started any crazy new diets yet, and she was planning to do that over Christmas. She had thought about going to Weight Watchers, but she told herself she didn’t have time. But for now she had eased up on the ice cream and pizza. And she was buying salads and cooked chicken breasts to eat in the kitchen with the others when she got home, and she made sure she had fruit for an afternoon snack. She still hadn’t developed a social life, other than the occasional movie date with Helen, but she enjoyed her roommates. She saw more of Harlan than anyone, because Bill was always with Julie, and Bunny had been going to Boston almost every weekend to be with her boyfriend. She was thinking of moving to be with him. But Harlan was around almost as much as she was. He was single and unattached too. And he worked as hard as she did. When he came home at night, he was exhausted and happy to crash in front of the TV in his room, and meet her for a snack in the kitchen.
“So where are you going for Christmas?” she asked him one night over a cup of tea.
