A Classroom Door

Shayna took a deep breath before enjoying her final sip of steaming hot jasmine tea for the morning. It was, as they said in the business of teaching, time to open the classroom door.

As any early childhood educator knew, once that door was open and children were present, it was highly unlikely that the adults could engage in any form of self-care until all students were retrieved by their trusted grownups. Ms. Kaplan, still technically “Shayna” with the door closed, braced herself to forget her basic human needs, like piping hot caffeinated beverages, until about 2:55 pm. What an eternity from 7:45 am. Maybe, if she set a few alarms on her smart watch, Shayna stood a chance at remembering to take a sip of water or two throughout the morning. Afternoons were generally a self-awareness desert for all humans in the preschool classroom, a mudslide of big feelings and unmet needs. And not to forget, there was always the rare day in which all students fell asleep at Rest Time – hope was abundant!

One final deep breath, in through the nose, and out through the, well, nose. Shayna made knowing eye contact with her teaching assistant, Vivian, bid her needs adieu, and swung the door open. She could predict the first entry without needing to hear or see them. Rufus always made his presence known and was regularly the first to arrive and the last to leave. This is typical in a preschool classroom; the student whose superlative is “most draining of all classroom resources” will always spend the most time in that classroom. Draining its resources.

“Ms. Kaplan, Ms. Kaplan, MS. KAPLAN!” Rufus wailed.

“Good morning, Rufus,” Shayna reached for another deep breath, erratic already.

“Ms. Kaplan, I wan ousside time! Is ousside time?” Truthfully, Rufus would have benefitted from one of those forest school programs where he could be outside all day. His parents seemed like the granola types who would appreciate that suggestion; they had a sort of laissez-faire attitude that was occasionally charming. During parent-teacher conferences, this mindset was anything but charming.

Ms. Kaplan’s assistant, now “Ms. Hernandez” for the day, chimed in. “Morning Rufus! We’ll go outside during Outing time. Let’s look at the schedule for today,” Ms. Hernandez was amazing. No teacher on earth makes what they are worth, but it was truly a crime that this woman was living on near minimum wage for the work of a queen.

The morning played out as usual, with the common understanding that there is no “usual” in a day of preschool. Between 7:45 – 8:45 am, fifteen more students traipsed into the classroom with their many special skills and wants and needs. They engaged in the daily schedule’s “Choice Time,” in which the full room and all its glorious materials were made available for the three-and-four-year-old children to use and ultimately, abuse. The children saw this as their time to take ownership of the space, and the teachers saw this as constant fires to put out. Mimi painted delicately, and Paola dipped her hands in red paint and slammed them onto her peer’s easel work. Mimi cried, Paola giggled and ran away into the building area, set on painting as many blocks with her red hands as possible before interception from an adult. Damien, in a new stage of life deemed “potty-training,” was so deeply engrossed in his building structure, he peed his pants right in the middle of the beloved classroom rug. Rufus had begun to scoop sand from the sensory table and dump it right onto the floor. The teachers constantly felt outnumbered in this room, but today, something was in the air.

As a teacher with a Master’s Degree, Ms. Kaplan understood that there were underlying needs with each child’s behavior, and wanted to find the communication needs behind these actions. As a human without much going on outside of work, Shayna couldn’t help but like these children were conspiring against her. Eventually, the alert on her Apple Watch brought her back to this room, and she made the announcement in her sing-songiest of voices, “We have five more minutes left to play, and then we will clean up!”

This upcoming transition was Ms. Kaplan’s sweet-spot in teaching; cleanup time was led with song, and thankfully, this group responded well to repetitive simple musicality. While transitions tend to be challenging for the majority of young children, not to mention adults, Ms. Kaplan’s singing background allowed for a symphonic trance, leading the children much like the Sanderson sisters in Hocus Pocus. Most teachers dreaded the Everest-like task of gathering a large group of little ones for a Circle Time, but this was where Ms. Kaplan typically shined.

Together, they all went through the motions of the Circle Time routine; each child was greeted by name, given a chance to come up and dance, and instructed to sit back down. They went through the daily schedule, the days of the week, the monthly calendar, and the “job” assignments of the day. Ms. Kaplan knew that she had to keep the pace up, as Ms. Hernandez was too busy tidying the rest of the classroom and preparing snack for the children. If one child was lost to distraction, the whole illusion of peace and calm was likely to come crumbling down.

As the time approached to report upon the weather, Paola stood up and looked outside the window as per her Weather Reporting job description of the day. “It’s cloudy!” Paola shouted, pride oozing from every pore of her tiny self.

Ms. Kaplan checked her smart watch, remembering the slight potential for rain in the forecast. An update told her that, not only was it cloudy, but it was likely to rain soon, and unlikely to let up before the end of the day. “Paola is right – it is cloudy. Paola, let’s put up both the ‘Cloudy’ and ‘Rainy’ pictures on the chart. It looks like it’s going to be rainy soon, which means we might need to be flexible during Outing Time today.”

Just as Paola began to place the correct pictures on the chart, and just as Ms. Kaplan was about to ask Ms. Hernandez to check on Library availability, all hell broke loose.

“Fessibal??? Ousside ousside time?” Rufus began with a whimper, and other outside-time-obsessed students began to join him.

“I know, Rufus, we were all really excited to go outside today. But we can’t make it if it’s raining. Yes, we are going to need to be –”

“FESSIBAL??? Nooooooooooooooo!!!! I wiw NOT!!! BE!! FESSIBALLL!!!!!” And thus erupted the first major temper tantrum of the day. Thankfully, Ms. Hernandez abandoned her dishes and came immediately to Rufus’s side. They went for a quick walk outside the classroom, which allowed Ms. Kaplan to redirect the group before it was past the point of no return. She immediately searched Spotify for a song about flexible thinking and played it on her phone to magically re-engage the full group. Like fairy dust, she’d regained control.

*          *         *

           Once all the children were quietly napping at Rest Time, a miracle indeed, Ms. Kaplan was able to eat her packed salad and guzzle much-needed cold water. She felt like Shayna again, and had been teaching long enough to know that no important work would be completed over a lunch break. Instead, she decided to get a bit cheeky, and check her dating apps to see if any matches had been made. Shayna had been teaching for seven years and had long since given up on this idea of naturally meeting a romantic partner out there in the real world. Teaching used up her entire social battery, but she could handle the occasional meetup with someone vetted through a virtual delicacy like Bumble. Despite her entire personality revolving around being a teacher, Shayna had needs.

           Swiping left and right just for a brain break, Shayna stopped cold at one particular picture. Could it actually be? She zoomed in, she squinted, she confirmed. This was a (shirtless) picture of Ben Whitlock, married father of none other than the Outdoorsman himself, Rufus Whitlock. This was a new low – or was it? Shayna had never seen a parent from her classes on a dating app before. She was dying to swipe right, but her cheeks were flooded with maroon. That would be the opposite of professional, and the lines between personal and professional lives were already so murky in the field of education. A screenshot of Ben’s saucy profile picture wasn’t the worst plan of action, if nothing else to show Vivian once they had a childless moment together.

           Shayna checked her watch and realized that she was late returning to Rest Time coverage. With no intention of robbing her amazing assistant of precious break minutes, she fumbled out of Bumble and put her phone back in her pocket. Wolfing the rest of her salad down, she took one sharp and deep breath, and returned to the circus.

*          *         *

           At the end of the day, Ms. Kaplan held her beloved Goodbye Circle with the class. Each child was encouraged to share one special memory from the day before taking a deep breath. Ms. Kaplan had a small handheld pinwheel toy, and the students revered their turn to “make it move” with their breath. It was a regulating tool that she loved to use, serving both the children in practicing mindfulness, and their caregivers in receiving semi-calm monsters upon their arrival. The answers today were, as always, lit.

           “I feed the snails,” Mimi shared, proud of her accomplishment of today’s job. Yes, we had snails as a classroom pet – don’t knock it ‘till you try it.

           On Paola’s turn, she wriggled in her spot. “Play with paint,” she reframed her morning’s sabotage.

           “I build big big BIG tower and I knock it down!!” Damien exclaimed, sharing one of the universally classic delights for children; the destruction of tall, tall structures.

           On Rufus’s turn, he was unusually quiet for a moment. Was he – was it possible that he was thinking about how to answer before speaking? Finally he said, “I sad no ousside. Miss Herndez, we, we make plan. We go ousside tomowow. I want to play swings, I swing so high!”

           Ms. Kaplan was shocked, and her awe of Ms. Hernandez’s work with Rufus throughout the day. She paused, unaccustomed to this much forethought in an answer from Rufus. She beamed and said, “Thank you for sharing, Rufus. It sounds like that plan helped you feel better.”

Rufus smiled, nodded, and took his turn to move the pinwheel. Instead of his typical sputter, he exhaled slowly and calmly enough to make the plastic spin, a feat that he had not yet accomplished alongside his peers. Rufus looked up at Ms. Kaplan, beaming, and the full group clapped for him.

Several friends, minutes, and a brief goodbye song later, it was time to open the door. Ms. Kaplan typically stood at the door to catch up with parents and caregivers while Ms. Hernandez stayed on the rug with the children (which, to be clear, was fully sanitized since the morning’s transgressions.) Ms. Kaplan opened the door, ready to greet just about everyone but the first individual waiting at the door; none other than Mr. Ben Whitlock.

This was a first. Rufus was usually collected by his mother, and this was regularly at least fifteen-twenty minutes passed the dismissal time. Ms. Kaplan froze. Her cheeks went flush. “Oh – hi! Hey! Great to see you,” she stammered, and regained enough composure to call in her sing-song tune, “Goodbye Rufus, goodbye Rufus, goodbye Rufus, we’ll see you again real soon!” As Rufus collected his belongings from his cubby, Ms. Kaplan struggled to think of anything to say. She was typically an excellent classroom-door-small-talker, but today her mind was blank, aside the shirtless visual she had seen of the parent in front of her. So good to see you Ben.” Rufus ran to Mr. Whitlock, and Ms. Kaplan had no words left. She just waved like a damn buffoon.

Suddenly, Mimi’s mother was there, and Ms. Kaplan forced herself to get it together. She dismissed the remaining students, able to make herself present enough to give the smallest of anecdotes to each grownup as they received their little. In the back of her head, she wondered about what might be going on at home for Rufus, and how that may be influencing his behaviors at school. Were his parents possibly going through a marital issue? Was Ben cheating, and was there any justification for letting his wife know? What a mess for Ms. Kaplan/Shayna’s moral compass!

Once all the children were safely dismissed to their trusted adults, the door was swung closed. Shayna and Vivian reemerged, ready to hash out the blackout of a day they’d shared in a working context. They discussed several notes and ideas from their work with the children, until Shayna could stand it no longer.

“So, I found something really interesting on Bumble today…” she led. Vivian was fully attuned to Shayna’s love life, or lack thereof.

“Ok, ok, you matched with someone juicy?” Vivian joked.

“You have to see it,” Shayna said, pulling up the screenshot, “here, look!”

Vivian’s eyes widened, “Is that…?”

“Yup! Rufus’s dad! Can you believe it?? What about Kate?” For context, Kate was Rufus’s overly chill mother’s name.

“Not gonna lie, he’s pretty hot,” Vivian finally said. They let out some uncomfortable laughter together.

“Is this why Rufus has been off the walls lately? Do you think their marriage is falling apart?” Shayna wondered aloud.

Vivian was quiet for a moment, pondering. She burst into maniacal laughter. Shayna wondered what she was missing. “You ok?” she asked.

Vivian’s cackle lasted for a full minute before she could catch enough breath to respond. “Rufus – he said something earlier,” she wheezed.

Shayna was on the edge of her toddler-sized seat. To be fair, it was the only way for an adult to sit in these tiny chairs. “What? What did he say?”

“Well,” Vivian began to breathe between spurts of giggles, “He was so upset about not going outside. I asked him why he was so excited, and he said he really wanted to go on the swings so he could show his parents.”

Shayna still wasn’t getting it. “Ok, so they go to the park a lot? They’re definitely the hippie type parents.” What was she missing here?

“No, no,” Vivian said, “he said he wanted to be the best ‘swinger’ just like his dad and his mom…” Vivian trailed off with a hinting glance.

It hit Shayna like a ton of cardboard bricks; Rufus’s parents have some sort of polyamorous arrangement, and Rufus must have overheard them talking about “swinging.”

The hysterical laughing bug suddenly caught her. "To each their own," she exhaled between chuckles.

And just like that, with unstoppable hilarity, the day melted away for Vivian, Shayna, Ms. Hernandez, and Ms. Kaplan. They absolutely could wait to do it all over again tomorrow.