My Blue Period

So, I came into school two days ago and the custodian told me they were going to repaint my room and the faculty room.

Now, before you get all excited for me, let me give you some background. From my first year in 1995 up until last year, I had a futon bunkbed in my room. This bed was my reading center, my reward for kids who did homework 6 days in a row and basically, the one thing that I've kept as my own in the many moves I had to make (2 states and about 6 different classrooms). I had even decided if the Highlander and I had a child, the bed would come home for them (silly, I know, since we'dve just gotten new stuff, but still!).

Last year, my principal told me I'd have to get rid of it because it was a fire hazard.

I was DEVASTATED. I begged him to let me keep it, but he said it had to be done, district rules. Honestly, I actually CRIED bitter tears in front of him because the one unifying piece of my educational domain was going to have to go. It also meant yet another piece of the babymaking project was going up in smoke. I ended up giving it to one of my students that had come a long way that year and felt, in some way, like it had practically gone to our "child".

Anyway, I went through a minor grieving period in which I needed to refocus myself into a new project. As a young teacher, I had always wanted to paint my walls black and put glow in the dark stars on them. As age mellowed me, I settled on painting it a deep blue one day. With the bunkbed agony still fresh, I suddenly had a way of reclaiming my domain. I figured it could be a sort of "rebound" bunkbed for me. I asked my principal if it was okay with him and he agreed I could paint it any way I wanted.

So, I chose the color (which is actually the same blue as the school shirt I'm wearing in my picture), bought all the materials and I spent 2 weeks on and off in the summer painting it with some of my kids. The room is EASILY 14 feet tall, so I had to stand on furniture on tiptoe with a roller for the whole upper half to make it work. This was also a second story room in a NY building with NO AC in the summertime, so there were days I thought I might lose it to heatstroke. When we finished, we signed our names in an inconspicuous corner and once again, my room was my own. All year long, people talked about how cool it looked and how it brightened things up, etc. Even my principal came around and admitted it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be when I said a "darker blue".

Oh, and an important sidenote: as I went around the district for different meetings that year, I noticed that other folks had sofas, chairs, pillows and all kinds of other stuff that would be considered a MUCH bigger fire hazard than my metal pipe bunkbed with the one futon mattress and one twin mattress. Even the teacher next door got her wooden swing from downstairs where it was going to be thrown out and brought it back into her room. I was the ONLY person who had to get rid of my "fire hazard". Hmmm...

This bring us back to the moment that our custodian informed me that the principal had told him to repaint the room. The custodian added quietly that "he" (pointing to the office) had NEVER liked the color. Only our custodian knew that this was basically a covert operation, since no one is in the building for the summer. I received no calls or messages...if I hadn't been in the building to pick up some summer school stuff, I would have come back to off white walls.

So, I charged downstairs, ready to rationally demand that my room NOT be changed, not when I had spent my own time and money on the whole thing. I planned to go over his head to the union or the superintendent if need be, since no one else's room was being painted My principal told me the same thing from last year...that the district wanted it redone and there was nothing he could do...

Things get a little fuzzy for me at this point, so let me give you more background while the me of 2 days ago slowly goes to the mental zoo!

For various reasons, my family and I moved quite a bit. I went to 11 different schools in my educational career (4 elementary, 1 middle, 3 high school and 3 colleges) and over the span of my life, have lived in 18 different houses/apartments across 6 different states and done more jobs than I care to count. I've even TAUGHT in 3 different districts over 2 states and done more than one program/grade level in each one. As you can imagine, I have some REAL deep seated issues with permanence and stability...!

So, how can I describe the conversation in the office AFTER my principal confirmed the repainting story? Picture this: tell a 6 year old that they're going to Disneyworld. Promise them this will happen, repeatedly for like a WEEK. Show them every Disney movie ever made in that week. Throw them a Disney theme going away party with all their friends. Pack up the car, get Mickey ears to wear on the ride down and even strap the kid into the backseat and turn the car on. Then tell them you can't take them after all, that you just made it all up. Now make that kid a 38 year old black woman that already has had to give up an item she treasured for the same reason. Oh, and did I also mention that my monthly visitor dropped in just TODAY?

So, back up to two days of PMS ago...!

I remember...LOTS of crying and hysterical breathing. I remember eschewing tissues for the backs of my arms. I remember bringing up very salient and logical debate points such as "but you SAID!!! You TOTALLY SAID I COULD!!!" and "You don't even CARE, you're just being MEAN for no REASON!" and "Why? Why would you DO this to me? What did I DO? Did I not TEACH right?" I definitely remember saying something to the effect of it being HIM that didn't like it, not the district and that he was "sneakin' around". I think I even might have said "It's like you're not my FRIEND no more!!!" I was basically just like the parents from this Burger King commercial, only a lot louder.

The one thing I know for sure was that my principal was in NO way ready for this from me. I'm the tomboy of my building, the easygoing one that could care less about fashion sense, cute stuff or anything related to interior design. I NEVER cry because I hate that place that crying takes me to and I hate that it wins arguments that SHOULD have been won with words.

This caught him (and, frankly, ME) totally by surprise. After all, he was all geared up for an argument, a man-to-man talk. Once the mental revolution began, he was able to get out one coherent sentence, which was "Well, I'm not in the habit of taking things from people." Everything else was cut off by my insane rant through the Halls of Fairness (where I believe I might have flung feces, lit the ancient tomes on fire and written the words "NO GOAL" in bright red lipstick on the statue of Blind Justice).

Anyway, 2 days and a sinus cold later (MAN, did I cry HARD!), my room is NOT being repainted. I've fully worked through my issues (translation: had ice cream and a hug from Kevin) and I believe my principal and I have reached a new level of communication and understanding ( despite the restraining order)!

D.