Behind the Camera

Dear Journal, welcome to the daily and painfully detailed chronicles of Blake Macall’s life. My wife says I don’t talk enough about my day, “and it can’t just be ‘I taught class today. Some students are cool, some suck’ include all the small things” so obviously I started singing Blink-182, which earned me an eye roll. So here I am writing it instead.  

I suppose this is for future me to look back on, or my wife to read, or my kids to stumble upon when I’m very dead. So for this first entry I’ll describe everything in great detail for you, whomever you are. I can't promise anything else beyond that though.

School starts at 8:30 and I barely made it one time. I don’t have first period class anymore so I can sleep in a little longer before dropping Kayla off on the other side of campus. I don’t have much to do during my prep period so I read my book. Gliding through the pages before I am suddenly interrupted by the bell. 

In comes some of my psych students “Hey Macall” someone yells at me, then another and over and over again for the 5 minutes it takes 25 highschool juniors to walk into a classroom. I stand and give a presentation on body language that I will repeat about 100 more times today, and tomorrow, and next week. This class is quiet, and doesn't ask questions. Can’t tell if I love or hate it. Then the bell rings again.

Here comes the parade of “Bye Macall” and “Hey Macall” all over again. Only one calls me Mr. though. It feels odd hearing it now. This is also a psych class, but specialized towards criminals and only sophomores take it. If you said “that sounds terrible” thats because it is. Sophomores think they are better than everyone, and therefore don’t know how to shut up. Especially when their opinion is unwanted. We all remember what it was like to be 15, so I try to take pity on them and yet I still want to punch them in the face sometimes. If my boss asks, I never wrote that. 

All of my classes drag on in this underwhelming and boring fashion until lunch. I let students come and go through my classroom. Sometimes I’ll put a show on the projector, sometimes I just leave it unlocked. Again, my boss never needs to know that. Today I decide to stay and continue reading my book. This time the parade is only by students I don’t mind talking to. “Macall” I hear chanted at me, immediately recognizing it. “What’s up Ace” I call back. Ace walks to the back of the room with his girlfriend quick to follow. Ace is ambitious and well liked but not much more than that. He knows he can do better and wants to. So he shoots for the stars, and gives up halfway through. 

“Cell phone” is also chanted at me, this time by JJ. That nickname evolved from MaCALL to phone call to cell phone. JJ is a junior with Ace and picks up the pieces when he decides to  give up and fall apart. She pulls up a seat nearby and starts talking about the new elective I’m teaching next year. 

“So what's the vibe you’re thinking? Like will it be research on photographers or will it be like us taking the photos?” 

“What are you even talking about?”

“The photography class. So?” with a drawn out last syllable

“Little of both, mostly me teaching you techniques and you guys actually doing it.” I say returning my gaze back to my book. I sound like an english teacher. Someone take my book from me. 

“How are you grading us then?”

“Your ability to use the technique I taught you.” Without looking up.

“Interesting” 

The rest of my day is just like before. Long. Drawn out. Boring. I’m still stuck thinking about Ace though. I had him in my business class previously, so I know how hard he can work if he really wants to succeed. He had a great mock-interview, he completed all the class work, even took charge. Until he didn’t. Maybe he just didn’t like the class very much. Maybe something personal was going on and he couldn’t focus. I don’t know but I’m inclined to find out. 

…

Dear Journal, I may or may not have forgotten about you. But that's okay, nobody really cares, probably. Except my wife who somehow noticed and told me last night over dinner “If you only write in it once, you won’t get anything out of it.” Guess that confirms my hunch about her reading this. Oh god what if she reads that part too. If she is, I love you honey.

Either way, it’s about 2 months later. All my classes are equally as boring and uneventful. Now however, I was just told I am teaching summer school. Yay. We live in SoCal. It gets unbelievably here. I don’t want to spend six weeks in 110 degree heat with sweaty kids stinking up my classroom. Not only that, I am teaching a course for freshmen. I will be these kid's first experience of highschool. They are practically middle schoolers though.

…

Dear Journal, here we are. First day of summer school. I watch the confused freshman walk into my room. Giggling and looking around in what I think is amazement. I can tell who went to school together and who didn’t. The kids from out of town or one of our non-feeder schools just sit quietly to themselves, most of the time on their phone until I start talking. The real ballsy ones just keep looking at their phone. 

Then you have the typical archetypes. The loud girl that everyone can’t stand and she feels the need to give her opinion on everything. The male and female athletes alike. The girls are a little better but they all think they are hot shit. The guys all play soccer or football and think that gives them the right to do anything they want. At Least they played in middle school so they think they still will in highschool too. What a rude awakening they will find in three months. Then there are the kids here to get extra credits. Those are easy to pick out. You can feel the rage they are giving off because they are stuck being baby sat and getting elective credits instead of being in an actual class. 

The only productive thing I can do is finish up the curriculum for the photography class next year.

…

Dear Journal, I won’t bore you with the details of summer school, but I will give you a synopsis. Basically, kids are gross, freshmen are somehow worse than sophomores, and I hate my job. When did freshmen get so ballsy anyways. In years past they were all too scared to talk or mess with the upperclassmen as a whole, especially the seniors. They haven’t learned yet not to run to lunch, or to mess around in the halls yet. They all probably just need to be humbled a little. One learned her lesson already though.

A relatively quiet girl, Alexa. She made a friend in summer school and the kept hanging out during the first few weeks of school. They were chasing each other in the halls during passing period one day. They bumped into a senior girl and to say they were scared out their minds is an understatement. Apparently the senior turned around and yelled in their faces about staying out of the way and if they want to play they should go to the playground like the little kids they are. Her words, not mine. I just agree with her. I wasn’t around and neither was any of the staff so nobody besides other students saw. Neither of the freshman nor the senior got in trouble. The only reason I know about this is because a senior I had last year in psych came and told me about it. 

It's week three of the new school year so I’m acquainted with most of my students, and those I had last year are more tolerable this year. A few faces I recognize in the new photography class makes the class even more exciting for me. I’m stuck in a rut and I hope doing something new will help get me out of it. This job really drains on you after a decade or so, and I know the kids can tell I don’t enjoy it like I used to. Even if I never had them when I still loved my job and showed up early everyday. 

Photography is sixth period so I have to suffer through most of the day before I get to the class I enjoy. God I sound like a student complaining about taking Calculus before they get to their elective. I see Ace walk in with a little extra pep in his step. Now I sound like a middle aged woman putting “Live Laugh Love” on my walls. Either way he looks happier, excited. Interesting. Then JJ comes in. And the other 12 kids. This class is small, which I like.

…

Dear Journal, I got it. I think I know how to fix my rut and get Ace to not lose motivation. So, let me take you back to the past few days. A couple of days ago, Ace walked into the room super excited, talking about wanting to do more in the class. Immediately I was excited he was enjoying this class enough for that, but I’m also a little apprehensive. He’s a senior this year. That senioritis will hit him like a truck coming back from spring break. Depending on what he does, I don’t want that to be his downfall. 

Then, yesterday he submitted his assignment on using black and white in photos, and they were good. Better than good actually. His photos were the best in the class and have been for about a week now.  So I talked to him today. The conversation went a little bit like this. 

“Hey Ace can I talk to you for a sec” He stared at me with true terror. 

“What's up” he said apprehensively after sitting in a chair near my desk.

“So those photos you submitted for the black and white assignment.”

“Are they that bad” This time his face cringed at me.

“No, the opposite actually” he relaxed “They were some of the best I’ve seen. Obviously we all need some help and just a few minor things need to be adjusted, but they were really good.”

“Really” he seemed surprised

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about running for president of the class. I overheard you saying you want a bigger role in the class and based on your skills I think you could do well.”

“Are you serious” even more surprised 

“Yeah. I’ll work with you the whole step of the way. I think you could do really well with this.”

“What would I be doing?”

“Well you would be the one making the overall decisions. If someone wants to buy new cameras, or change the curriculum, or just about anything else it would be your final call. I would be there to prevent anything outrageous but I think you could do well.”

“Yeah I’ll think about it.” Man of few words evidently.

…

Dear Journal, now that I have offered Ace this position he has been taking a bigger part of the class. I told him to wait a week and tell me his answer, but I think he already has his mind made up. I’m hoping that when he is president he won’t get overwhelmed. That’s why I told him I’m going to be there for all of it so he doesn’t feel alone. On the other hand, I am going to tell him that nobody else is running so he doesn’t think there is a fall back plan. I think the combination of both will help him feel more comfortable with the position and not let him slack off. 

…

Dear Journal, I was right. He told me he wanted to run for president two weeks ago and he has been great ever since. He turns in work early, his photos are only getting better, and I heard from other teachers he is doing better in their classes too. I hope he keeps this up and doesn’t give up halfway through.” 

…

Dear Journal, it's been about 5 months and Ace has been perfect. He hasn’t slacked off at all and everyone in the class looks up to him as a leader. I was nervous they might look at him and see one of their own but instead they all respect him as a leader. Spring break came and went and he never wavered. I don’t know why or how he’s doing so well but I don’t want to jinx it. The other day though, I overheard him talking to his girlfriend. He was saying he loved being behind the camera rather than in front of it. He gets excited and bites off more than he can chew, then he gets burnt out and loses motivation, ultimately putting him on the spot light for “failing” and he ends up feeling worse. The cycle just repeats. 

Now I have a cheat code to make sure he doesn’t fail. I just need to keep him out of the spotlight and keep him from taking on too much. Next lesson for him will be to delegate. 

…

Dear Journal, after overhearing that conversation, I had Ace interview people to be his vice president. Now he has experience in a position of power without holding it over people’s heads, he gets to have a number two, and a little exposure therapy to being the center of attention. This time in a positive way. I told him to assign the vice president some of the work he had on his plate, and later just approve or deny what she submits. He has done it a few times now and has gotten better at giving out work instead of feeling like he is responsible for everything. He even gives her constructive criticism and it is improving both of their work. Just two months until he graduates. I’m confident he will be able to keep this up. 

…

Dear Journal, I don’t know how I’m gonna get through this ceremony without crying. I don’t cry, but today I’m losing it. Watching Ace walk across the stage today was hard. Him telling me he is a photography major made my heart happy. But the hardest was knowing he was leaving. If I realized sooner I could have done so much more for him. I shouldn’t have judged a fish by his tree climbing abilities. I had an impact on this kid. I helped him know how to overcome his own fears. I showed him his strengths are so much bigger than his fears. I don’t want to toot my own horn but I did that. I will be a part of this kid for much longer than I’ll live. As hard as it is to see him go, I am way more proud than I am sad. I love this feeling. 

…

I found my new fish. I’m gonna teach him to swim.