Stories

The morning light shines off the yellow bricks of Junior Academy as I cross the street. Another teaching day.

Lunch in hand, I walk downstairs to the kitchen. And encounter my day's first digression: A parent with a "quick" question. It's about last night's homework. And tomorrow's Scholastic order. And next week's test.

As my energetic and distinctive students trickle in, I watch my IN pile rise with different-coloured workbooks: green for this group, orange for that, blue for yet another. Peripherally, I notice parents (often two, sometimes three, rarely only one) waiting at the classroom door or against the wall for their "quick" word.

The day proceeds. One group works on an activity while I read with other students. A pupil meets me at my desk for additional instruction. First though, I have to use the most frustrating photocopier in history. I chat with our all-knowing principal/mentor as I wait. No matter what I say or ask, she understands.

An in-house tutor takes one of my students for individual instruction, for wisdom, for patience, and understanding.

On yard duty, I play soccer with "the boys." Our nets are torn. We wish the playground was bigger, but we don't mind.

At the end of the day, teachers stand in the doorways looking for parents, nannies and each other. Parents stop and chat, and laugh; many have become friends. Then it's time for After-School, for everyone. Remaining students play until pick-up. Remaining teachers debrief. I'm tired but fulfilled.

Every day is a fulfilling day at Junior Academy.