laptop

we got laptops. 20 of them. just for my classroom. this is nice because i've spent the last two years shoving a large, empty laptop cart into various corners of my classroom, hoping eventually to shove it out a window (except that they don't open) or a door (since it doesn't have a lock anyway). we scored the laptops because my unusual students are participating in a program to improve their reading levels. i won't bore you with the details, but it's actually very cool. however, because there are twenty laptops snuggled up in my classroom, the lockless door needs fixing. now, it's not like i haven't mentioned this to every single human up and down the chain of command from my principal to the guys who walk around with screwdrivers. several times. i've filled out countless forms requesting repair of the lock, citing countless books missing from my library, some of which were seen flying from my window last year (when it still opened) and out onto the street below. my classroom is large and full of places to be unseen. it is also sitting in a corner of the top floor, making the thirty minutes it sits teacher free very precious to children of questionable character. children who might slip a laptop into a backpack.

so the door needs fixing and the other day one of the guys with tools stopped by. now, i've worked in quite a few schools and generally it is wise to befriend the guys with tools. and in most schools, that's easy because the guys with tools are nice guys and they spend their days fixing things. but not in this school. this school has a strange collection of passive aggressive folks who make the teamsters at film shoots look like bees or beavers. the guy with tools stopped by and laid out a pile of tools on the table by the door. the kids and i were talking about projects they're working on, discussing people's topics and how to set up interviews to get information. i should say here that my plain wood door has spent the last five years screwed to a door-sized metal plate. it is important you know it is connected with screws. i'm not sure why the plate is there, but efforts to turn the door into a "security door" evidently require the removal of said plate. the one that's screwed in. and passive aggressive tools guy began pounding on the metal plate with a hammer. which was funny for the first ten or so seconds. and the kids always welcome a distraction, but a man clanging away on a seven foot sheet of metal with a hammer ceaselessly for five or so minutes tests the patience of even a fifteen year old in an english class. we talked about the fact that a few minutes of suffering would secure laptops for us all and were willing to suffer. until the bell rang.

then the next class arrived. they got out their notebooks. they got out their reading packets. they got out pens and pencils. they looked over at tool guy who was still struggling with the metal sheet, clearly unaware that a screwdriver and relative silence would allow him to take the thing off. the kids looked at me. "is he going to keep doing that?" someone asked. i figured he'd stop soon so i asked them to give him a minute or two. when it became horribly clear that he was never going to get that metal plate off the door, i turned to him and said, as politely as i could, "um, we're wondering how long you'll be with that because the kids are getting ready to take a test." now, there was no such test and much to my surprise none of the kids freaked out about my little white lie. they seemed to get it. i was trying to give the guy a good excuse to leave. and he did. but he didn't just leave. he swept up all his tools from the table in a huff and stomped out. the kids' eyes got big. they giggled. they said, variously, can't they do that when there's no class? (of course they can. there are guys with tools in the building from 6am to 6pm) doesn't he know we have class in here? (yes, everyone in the building has access to a classroom schedule, especially guys who work on things in the rooms) wow! that guy was rude! why yes, he certainly was.

the next day i found a note saying my class had a room change. the two hour morning class that meets on the fourth floor would meet in two different rooms on the first floor. that's right. two. one from 8-9 and then another from 9-10. so the kids would go all the way up to the fourth floor, see the note on the door, stomp back down to the first floor without any of their work because the guys with tools would not let them in the classroom and would arrive at the first of the two classrooms we'd occupy in no mood to do work. and it's not like that mood dissipates right away. it's not like things are going to get smoother when i tell them we'll be walking down the hall and around a corner halfway through class. without our books. without our everything. then you have to figure that these kids are educationally fragile. disruptions like this get them all squirrelly. so i snarled into the office and asked two of my administrators what was going on. "the door," they said. "it's getting fixed." i made it as clear as i possibly could that my students and i are convinced that this work could take place between 6 and 8 am or between 2:30 and 6pm just fine so it wouldn't happen during class. i stressed the fact that my students take class seriously because i take class seriously and we don't like senseless disruption. i was assured the folks doing the work were locksmiths and 8-10 was the time they could stop by. fine. fine. we'll manage.

so the kids straggled in, grumbling, huffy. i explained the situation and they were willing to sit in a math classroom on the first floor and later on walk over to another math classroom and for the most part try to get some work done. i sent two kids up to the class to get folders and my book. they came back to report that they were chased out by none other than our own passive aggressive guys with tools. two of them. working on the door. no locksmith. the kids were indignant. they were furious. they do not like being lied to. "do you want me to check it out at nine?" i asked. they certainly did. so while the other teacher herded the kids to the other classroom at nine, i stomped up all sorts of flights of stairs and found myself face to face with a naked wood door. no metal plate. and a new handle and lock. behind me in the stairwell, i heard the voices of two of my boys who were supposed to be downstairs. they wanted to see the yelling and screaming. but the guys with tools were packed up and were leaving. they said over their shoulders as they started down the stairs, "we just need to get you a key." good. fine. finished. so i sent down for the kids to come upstairs. they'd be wild, but at least we'd be in our own place.

we were getting ready to read and one of the kids said, "that lock looks funny." it did. i noticed that when i came up the stairs but just wanted to be rid of angry tool wielders. "it's backward!" another kid said, laughing. it certainly seemed that way. the keyhole is in the part that's on the inside of the door. what i mean is that when the door is closed and you're standing inside the room, you can put a key in a keyhole. when you're standing outside, there's no keyhole to put a key in. so i let my administrators know but they had quite a few other things to deal with friday so it will be monday before we can laugh about this again. the kids think it is hilarious. they do not think the guys with tools who work at our school are hilarious. the kids have offered to fix the lock. they don't know why the people who put it in didn't notice at any point that they had the thing in backward, or that they had the wrong one. whatever. the door is a naked piece of wood. the kids have asked to paint it. i'm looking into that.