Room 24's Decorated Door Policy

I must...I must...I must increase my...test score results. Meanwhile,
in a school corridor, not-so-far-away, my friend,
Cassie was demonstrating, on her classroom door, 
how important it is to be flexible.

 Fair or not...how your classroom door is decorated says a LOT about you. That's the real reason some people opt to teach middle school or high school...so they can escape the pigeon-hold pressure of a theme-related identity that you just can't shake or the ridicule that accompanies an inadvertently lame door design. It never ends. Store-purchased punch-outs? Unoriginal. Carefully constructed crafts? (Insert nasal whiny sincerely-insincere tone here.)"Wish I had the time to take away from the important business of actually educating students to color for hours."  What is one to do?

This year, I decided to break with my tried-and-true dachshund theme to give poor Chlo a break. Each time I brought her in, I would carefully explain to the children, "You will know if Chlo needs some rest from your loving attention if you see her sit at Mrs. Mosiman's feet." Last year, Chlo attached herself to me like dachshund-shaped slippers. The less said about Chlo in the classroom, the better.

So, for some inexplicable reason, I went Super-Hero themed. I don't even really like Super-Heroes (although Chris Pines's helicopter scene in Captain America almost make me a convert...ME-OW!). Photoshopped each student's head onto a superhero figure. Chalked a city-scape onto black construction paper. Highlighted inspirational quotes connected to learning and character development ("I have much to learn. I know that now"...Thor). Crumpled blue tissue paper to have a 3-D version of Superman "flying" out of the top of my door. I was done. Everyone was going to hate me.

Except something was missing. No...someONE. Room 24 is a classroom community and I'd forgotten to include Mrs. Mosiman. Did a quick search of women superheroes and immediately realized that I wasn't woman enough to fill their...shoes. Holy-over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders, Batman! My door had to be rated G, for goodness sakes. But then I stumbled onto my cyber-super hero secret identity. When needed, this D-cupped diva and her dachshund companion speed to the scene to avoid apathy and respond sarcastically to passive-aggressive skeptics. For the good of the cause, I decided that my door could be PG. I attached my image to the door and stepped back to admire my handiwork. A passing colleague paused beside me. "Must be nice to have time to put something like that together," she said cheerfully, dropping an under-mining bomb without a second thought. But my deflector shields were up. "If it's important enough," I said, "you make the time." Ba-BAM!