Terror
My heart was pounding like a bomb had exploded in my chest!
Sweat was forming, especially around my hair line and my hands!
I don’t think I had ever been this frightened before!
I was only 4’10” tall.
How could I possibly survive 34 gargantuan seniors in one high school classroom?
It occurred to me that I was only 2 years older and a whole lot less experienced at life.
Most of these high school seniors were probably sexually active, smoked cigarettes or pot. I hadn’t.
Now I was really scared. I wanted to bolt from the classroom, but I couldn’t … or could I … end my teaching career before it had begun?
My mouth was suddenly as dry as my socks in the dryer at home. Yeah, I was still living at home. My college diploma hung on the wall in my childhood bedroom. “Elaine Stover,
May 15, 1967,
Blah Blah Blah University.”
I had to make a move.
Trembling, dry-mouthed, sweating, heart racing, I stumbled to the chalkboard. Giggles.
At least 34 pairs of eyes were drilling into my back. Somehow that felt better. At least I couldn’t see their staring eyes.
I wrote, “Senior American Literature.” I dropped the chalk. Giggles. I didn’t turn around, just picked up the chalk. I began again, “Miss Stover.”
Turning around, I walked to the desk and sat in my chair. Oh, God, I could barely see the students over the desk. The chair was too low for me. Bravely, I said, “Peter Weller.” He was way at the back of the room. I saw his hand go up, but I couldn’t see him!
I stood with my grade book in hand. I walked to the front of the room.
“Welcome to my class,” I said. I still couldn’t see him clearly.
What to do? I shoved some text books out of my way and hopped onto my desk. Now I could see Peter and the other students sitting in the back.
Still nervously, I began to slowly swing my right foot, an old habit. “Jane Lowery,” I said. Her hand shot up. “Welcome,” I said, and she smiled!
Now my foot picked up speed. It let go, and taking flight, it hit the ceiling and bounced up like a basketball!
Suddenly an arm shot up, and with perfect synchrony, he caught my shoe!
Total silence.
I walked to the end of the aisle, hobbling slightly and took the shoe from Peter’s outstretched arm.
This the actual shoe!
There was a long pause. Then… “Really good catch, Peter,” I laughed and patted him on the shoulder. Friendly laughter broke out!
I’d become a teacher!😊
I’d become a teacher!😊
Smooth sailing for me from then on!