Dad on Duty #96

How am I going to tell him that I’m not coming back?  That in a few weeks, our relationship is over?

How do I tell him that?

I dread that, almost more than anything.

**********

Marc, the Chosen One, worked with me again today.  It was a good day at the shop.  We got a lot done, and there was relatively little drama.

We worked on the clocks.

So, in order of how much they drive me crazy, here are the scourges of my elementary school existence:

1. Lost and found. We have discussed that at length, I believe.
2. The paper towel dispensers. …who thought these were OK to put in an elementary school?!?!?
3. Classroom clocks.

Yes, that’s right…..of all the scary, difficult, emotionally draining things that happen at school, these damn clocks rank #3.

We just passed over the daylight saving time threshold, so there is chaos among the clocks. We bought “satellite” clocks, which I’m sure seemed like a good idea, except the clocks can’t connect with the satellite through the building walls.  And they are complex to program by hand.  Plus, we installed them high enough on the wall that almost none of the 5-foot-and-some-change teachers….which is pretty much everyone in this building…..can reach them.

So a few times per year, myself and a couple other Dads go around and try to get everyone back on the correct (or at least, same…..) time.

Marc and I go, literally, room by room.  Many clocks need a new battery, in addition to being reset.  There are 40 rooms with clocks.  FORTY.  To reset the clocks, you have to get them to communicate with the satellite, for which there are limited spots in the building.  At one point, I am transporting FOUR clocks back down to the front office, so they can “hit” the satellite through the window, and a 4th grade kid passing me on the stairs asks “what the heck is this about?”.  I reply “technology is not always good, kid”.  He shrugs, clearly not believing me. “Old guy”….I feel like he’s thinking…..

*******

Six years ago, I made a pretty much unilateral decision to replace the crappy Walmart “family” radios at our school with some better ones.  However, that requires maintenance and regular “refreshes” in order to keep pace with the operational demand.

It is hard to imagine operating this place without these radios, now.  But truth is, our first year, we did just that.

And many other schools still operate with little or no quality communications system internally.

So, this year the PTA stepped up and bought a round of new radios for our refresh for the spring.  Those new radios have now arrived, and Marc and I have to put them together, set them up and get them distributed.

It is an endeavor of significant proportions.  There is a surprising amount of assembly required, and a an equally surprising lack of instruction included.

It took a couple hours, a Leatherman multitool, cursing, and at least one bandaid.

********

Ironically, right in the middle of that project, we get an urgent call for help over the radio.

A teacher transmits “need help!”  “Where?!?”  “My room”. That’s not going to get us there…..  “Room XXX!!”  It’s a behaviorally challenged kid, out of control.

Off we go.  Myself, Marc, the Boss and the A/P are all running down the hallway.  Raol, even though it is not his assignment, joins us.

Marc, smartly, says to me “we need to clear the other kids out so these guys can do their thing”.  Yep, exactly.  That’s how we can help.  I give him a thumbs up as we leap frog up the stairs.

As we arrive at the scene, the teacher has already dispatched her kids to another area.  Marc goes immediately to help with them.  The staff enter the room and engage the troubled kid.

I basically position against the classroom door, to block kids from seeing in and to make sure our client can’t get out.  I just stay there.  For a really long time.

The situation has now calmed down, and we are in a sort of standoff with the kid.  The Boss emerges; she has a behavior/special ed meeting scheduled with some parents.  “I think I need to be at that now”.  Yep, you better go.  We’re OK here.  For the Boss, it is time, attention and….spirit…..divided and conflicted.  She desperately wants to be here with this kid, but she needs to be at the meeting too.

After a while, I hear a weird sound.  Raol is doing a kind of trick.  He challenges the kid to do it, knowing that he can do it too (and likes to show that off).  The kid starts doing it.  The A/P, literally now lying on her belly, face to face with the kid who is under a table, watches and listens, genuinely interested, as the kid does the trick.  She soldier-crawls a little closer to him.    After several minutes of that, he emerges.  She hugs him, he apologizes.

And they walk out of the room, just fine.

Patience.  Attention.  Thoughtfulness and mindfulness.  It is an amazing orchestration of skills you will rarely see, all at once and without warning.  And it gets this kid back on track.

Every.  Single.  Day.  It happens.  Every.  Single.  Day.

*******

For some unknown reason, we have a bazillion maintenance guys at the building today.  A lot of stuff is broke, granted……but couldn’t you spread the work orders out a little more?

It’s an issue because these guys are moving big stuff in and out of a building full of pretty small people.  They have to leave doors unlocked and even propped open to get themselves and equipment in and out; and we are busy trying to keep kids in and grown ups out.

In general, I’m not a happy camper when the maintenance guys are here.

One team is repairing and replacing lights.  A *lot* of lights.  At one point, they are replacing the bulbs in one of the parking lot lights……directly over the cars of the Boss and the A/P.  If he drops so much as a screw from there, it’s gonna seriously mess up their cars.

I text the pic to the Boss saying “hope they don’t drop a wrench….”.  She replies “oh no!”  But literally, she cannot stop long enough to move her car.

Later, this same guy is on a 12 foot A-frame ladder re-wiring a light at the front entrance.  Importantly, this is also the main EXIT.   He is about 3 feet from the main door…..at 2:15 pm.  On a 12 foot ladder.

I look upon this situation for a few minutes, and do the math.  This will not go well.

I walk out to him.  He’s very intent, rewiring a ballast and installing an entire new light assembly in the entrance foyer.  It’s a significant project.

“Hey man, how’s it going?” I ask.  Without looking away from his work, he says “pretty good.  These things are hard to rewire”.   “Yeah….so here’s the thing…..in about 40 minutes, you’re going to have a HUGE problem”.   Now I have his attention; he stops and looks down at me.

“What?” He asks.  I point behind me at the main doors, which are…again….about 3 feet from his ladder.  “300 kids are going to come pouring out those doors in….(I look at my watch)…..38 minutes.  That will not end well for you.  I would definitely not be up there”.

He looks at me…..at the doors….at the partially assembled light above him….back at the doors.  “$%$#”.  He says.

That is an accurate assessment, yes.

“I think I can do it” he says.  I reply “OK”, the same way I imagine the navigator on the Titanic said “OK” when the captain said “I’m sure we can go around that iceberg….it’s not that big”, just before the navigator jumped on the very first lifeboat off of there.

I walk back into the office and Deb asks “what’s going on out there?”.  “He’s going to die” I pronounce, matter of factly.  “Well, that’s too bad” Deb comments, and goes on entering attendance reports.

Amazingly, at a level of unprecedented motivation, he finishes the wiring project and has his ladder moved by 2:52.  Three minutes to spare.

********

First grade is taking advantage of a beautiful day, and Texas Bluebonnet season, to do class and individual pictures in the flowers.

It’s beautiful.  And fun for the kids.  And so very, very Texas…..

*****

So, how am I going to tell him I’m leaving?  Or do I?  Do I just not show up next year, and that’s that?

He has leaned on me more and more this year.  I’ve spent dozens of hours with him, just us.

He’s troubled, both academically and socially.  I think his life outside school is unstable and difficult.

In nearly six years here, I’ve had important relationships with a lot of kids.  A.  Lot.

Every year, there has been one, sometimes two, that dominated my time and attention.  You, my readers, know those stories.

This one is different because….this one is the last one here.  The other kids eventually left me, in some way.  They graduated to middle school, or moved or changed schools.  Or, in the very best cases….didn’t need me so much anymore.

But in this case….I will leave him.

I will leave him.

I almost cannot write those words.  They are crushing.

In five weeks, I must decide.

But this week, when I go back, I’m just going to enjoy him.

As purely as I can.