roses and snapdragons and lillies, oh my!
April 27, 2003, 4:53 pm

Last night, as the kids huddled round for their last "circle" before the show started, everyone paused and held their breath as Charlie Brown broke down in tears. "I've never felt like I've been part of a group," he stammered, "and now I do, so thanks, guys."

Needless to say, there wasn't a dry eye on the stage. And the curtain didn't go up until 7:10pm because half the cast needed to touch up their make-up again.

It went SO well on Friday and Saturday, despite microphones getting knocked over, entire songs coming too early, Snoopy nearly falling off his doghouse (and breaking his "suppertime" hat and cane in the process), Sally's jumprope breaking on stage, and then her big bow from her dress falling into the toilet during intermission...all amusing things that are funny now and actually were then. The kids, quite frankly, had a ball, and so did the audience.

I have been stunned by the outpouring of love that everyone has shown me in relationship to this play. Hugs, emails, guestbook entries, notes from my colleagues, the whole thing. It has made the tears and the stress worth it (sure, I can say that now that it is over...).

Thursday, I was thrilled to see two bouquets of flowers show up on my desk in the English office, one from Connie (History Teacher) and Brad (Football Coach), and one from Agent Megan and her boyfriend, Andy (math teacher). On Friday, something ridiculous happened during 4th period...

I had decided to do my world-famous "Preposition Poster" lesson, where the students make "scenes" and use ten sentences to describe what is happening in the scene with prepositional phrases underlined. For example, an underwater scene may have something like "The guppy swims away from the shark." They really do learn prepositions through this activity, and they were all working hard when they came: the flowers. A HUGE arrangement of snapdragons, lillies, roses, etc. etc. that all but covered the office aide's head when she walked in the room.

"Ms. B!" She squealed, "these are for you!"

31 diligently working freshmen stopped and immediately pounced upon the vase. As I opened the card, they were sniffing the flowers, fondling the snapdragons, and untying and retying the ribbon around the base of the vase, waiting with the breath held until I announced who had sent them.

"Who sent them, Ms. B?"

I paused and sighed. The card read, "CONGRATULATIONS ON THE SPRING PLAY (NO SIGNATURE REQUESTED)."

"Um, I don't know."

"Aw, she knows and she's not telling us!"

"I bet it's CNET!" (obviously, the student didn't refer to him as CNET, but there's been rampant speculation from a number of students about my involvement with him...umhmm)

"No! I really don't know!" The card was passed around the room, and the cat-calls and whistles started.

"Ms. B has a secret admirer!" "Wooo!" "Go 'head, Ms. B!"

All pretenses of learning were immediately dropped for the rest of the day. Never interrupt a group of hormone-fortified, hopelessly romantic, ridiculous beyond medication 9th graders with a bouquet of flowers and the promise of a teacher's torrid affair on a Friday afternoon during last period.

I summoned Megan (via a note by the hand of one particularly responsible child) to my room for an "emergency faculty meeting." She couldn't believe it, either.

"Your mom?"

"She would have signed the card."

"What about CNET?"

"He would have signed it, too. Plus, I think he's broke."

"What about a parent of one of your kids?"

They would have signed it, too."

"What about Wolfenstein?"

"ACKKKKKKKKKK!"

(Wolfenstein is a fellow teacher who is unfortunately obsessed with me. He is also married and has a newborn, so it doesn't play well. He is also a pretentious salamander trying to become an administrator, and insists upon stalking past my classroom nine times a day, puffing his chest out, just so I can marvel at his suit, his walkie-talkie, and his air around his being an administrative intern.)

"He couldn't sign the card; he's married."

"He would have wanted the credit, trust me."

We kicked the ideas around while the kids offered their own and just made the room a mess. I am a good teacher, at least I think so, but Friday was not one of those days.

I have to admit, I was flattered and curious, and a touch full of myself. Yes,I thought to myself,I am wonderful and hot and a sparkling conversationalist, just the type of person to get flowers from secret admirers!

So I almost went to bed not knowing, but now I do.

Yes,I think to myself,I am wonderful and a sparkling conversationalist, just the type of person who gets flowers from complete strangers...

Thanks.