Teachers are at the very peak of a steep, slippery slide following Thanksgiving. Not those 2024 eco-friendly safety slides.... No. I am referring to the 70s slides that would either scorch or shave skin from the backs of your thighs as you went screaming down the steel incline to then be pummeled into the dirt. Just climbing the wrought iron ladder was to take your life into your hands. It was like a circus performer ascending to the high dive platform while your caring adults were either smoking Salems on the bench, oblivious to your imminent peril or, even better, home on the couch watching "Days of Our Lives," not even wondering where you were. When you reached the top, there was a line of eager kids behind you, clinging like leeches to that ladder, either physically pushing you or verbally taunting you so that you didn't have a chance to reflect upon your questionable life choices. Like becoming a teacher.
fifteen minutes scheduled for a cute Christmas craft takes two hours and you go home that day with hot glue burns on both hands, glitter in your eyes, and hatred in your heart.
But that drive to teach still flickers...
To commemorate the anniversary of Pearl Harbor, Room 14 reviewed FDR's edited speech and discussed the impact of just the right word. We listened to his "Infamy" speech. We watched an educational video discussing that horribly historic day and the events leading to it. And then we assigned parts to perform a Reader's Theater rendition of some of Pearl Harbor's heroic moments.
Through the magic of the written word, we were on board the USS Oklahoma just as it was struck when the first phone call interrupted us.
"Blah, blah, blah, blah."
"Yes, thank you," I replied and then returned to my quiet class.
The Oklahoma had just flipped upside down when the second phone call came.
"Blah, blah, blah, blah."
"Yes, thank you," I replied and returned to my 4th graders, perched on the edge of their seats.
The lights went out as a handful of men began treading water in a small compartment. We were with Junior Officer Adolph Mortensen as he took a deep breath and then dove underwater, groping for a port hole. He wrestled it open and began shoving his companions to safety. The phone rang. I paused. We were worried about Warrant Officer John Austin. He weighed over 200 pounds.
Sighing, I answered the phone. My 4th graders watched me intently as I listened for a long time. "I'm sorry," I said, finally interrupting my caller, "I think you have me mistaken for someone else." I spent another five minutes explaining to her that her phone directory was outdated and an additional minute providing her with the correct extension.
"He's not going to make it, is he?" a small voice asked. I shook my head sadly. We discussed sacrifice. Courage. Selflessness. The Friday Prize Cart arrived before we could continue. Our routine drum-roll was a little lackluster but we dutifully celebrated our selected student. The door was barely shut behind the cart before we resumed the play...once again, transporting ourselves back in time.
There was only a foot of space remaining between the rising water and the floor-that-was-now-their-ceiling. Blinded by darkness, filled with fear...Mortensen and Austin took one last breath and dove for the porthole...Austin guiding his friend out of the torpedoed vessel, forever remaining behind.
Room 14 sat in stunned silence. The weight of our world had descended upon the tiny shoulders of my 9-year-old students.
And then Santa walked into the room.
Bringing some much needed fresh air that, thankfully, breathed life back into Room 14.
Santa moon-walked his way around the desks and lifted the sunken spirits of my students. They cheered and clapped and giggled...like children should in December. History is important but can sometimes weigh you down. Remembering Pearl Harbor in this season of good cheer and giving reminds us of how much we have to be grateful for and provides some much-needed perspective. Maybe that slide isn't as steep as we imagine and a little glitter isn't that much of an inconvenience. Thank you and God bless to all of our military heroes...past AND present. You have given us an incredible gift.
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