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yuyusgirlie · 1 month ago

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teacher boo

teacher!seungkwan x teacher!reader

wc: 1.2k

content: drama teacher seungkwan, history teacher reader, fluff, being a teacher is hard, not edited lmk if you notice mistakes lol

“Miss why can’t I just use MLA citation, doing this whole new thing feels so useless.” You stare at this student with all the thought you can muster, which admittedly is not a lot, and just sigh.

It’s Thursday afternoon, the class is restless, and you have to teach the kids how to do Chicago citations because lord forbid you have to read another essay with MLA citations. “Listen, Chicago is what we use in history, I am just trying to make yours and everyone’s lives easier. It’s not that ha-” “Bro I’m not even going into history I don’t need to learn this.”

Once the first student cuts off your explanation, mayhem breaks loose in the classroom. Three kids close their laptops and sneak on to their phones, about five students swarm you at the front of the class with all their specific questions regarding the concept of footnotes, and two kids in the back decided now was a good time to argue about the homework for their next class.

You try to get the students back in their seats to address the class when you hear a booming voice get everyone’s attention.

“HEY. IN YOUR SEATS. NOW.”

You jump slightly at the loud intrusion into your classroom as you look up at the man now standing by your door. You were never more thankful for a certain Mr. Boo having a prep just around the corner from your classroom.

The students, just as startled by the intrusion as you were, if not more afraid, quickly sat in their seats and looked up at the door as Mr. Boo began walking into the room.

“Do you know how far I can hear all of your voices travel? I heard Adam’s voice from the drama room.” Adam tries to avoid Mr. Boo’s eye contact even though he is now standing right before him now, leaning against the ledge of the blackboard next to you.

“Why do you children only know how to project when it is from Ms.____’s room and not from the stage in my class?” Seungkwan asks the question to a room of students who refuse to meet his gaze. Enjoying the peace for a moment as your headache continues to linger you sort out the papers you were going to hand out to the kids before the hoard of questions started to hit.

“Stop being mean to your very nice teacher, make her life a little easier. Stop yelling.” The statement once again sits in a guilty silence as Seungkwan’s gaze then moves to you for a moment. He gives you a quick smile which you return before he puts down a note on your desk as he moves to the door. “If I hear the yelling again I won’t be as nice the next time!” He says walking out the door.

As the silence in the room remains for a few more moments, you take in a deep breath and sigh, hoping that this guilt will last for at least another half an hour so you can get through the last bit of your lesson before the bell rings.

After a few more manageable interruptions and enough quiet to explain the rest of your lesson, the bell rang with the students having a rough understanding of Chicago citations. Students begin to file out of your class, some waving to you goodbye, others apologizing for being disruptive during the class. They may often be a pain, but at the end of the day your classes were mostly very lovely.

You finally sit down at your desk in an empty room with only the sound of the air conditioner filling the space. You look out the window for a moment, collecting your thoughts and decompressing from the busy day before picking up the note dropped off by Mr. Boo.

You unfold it to see a small doodle of a tangerine and a heart, filling your chest with a sense of warmth and calm. Teaching isn’t easy, especially when the students are so demanding day in and day out, but knowing that your boyfriend and best friend is around the corner on the toughest days helps.

Just as you fold the paper up again you see a head peak into your room, “No students staying back for extra help today, Ms.___________?”

“Not today Mr. Boo,” you say with a smile as you move to gather some of your stuff into your bag. “Are you all packed up?”

“Ready as ever, just need to pick up one more thing and I’m good to go!”

“Oh?” You look at him with a raised eyebrow, zipping up your bag about to put it on your back. As you swing it over your shoulder, Seungkwan catches the strap of your bag, pulling it off you and into his hands.

“There we go, got it, let’s go!” He says with a smirk, leading the way out of your class.

With a soft laugh you follow him out the door, closing the lights and locking the door before heading towards the staff parking lot. You see some students lingering around on the school field and around the parking lot, hanging out with their friends on the Friday afternoon.

“Do you think the kids know about us?” You ask as you open the passenger door to Seungkwan’s car.

You both get in the car and sit there for a moment, taking in the quiet away from the school space for the first time this afternoon.

“I’ll be honest love, I don’t know what these kids know or what they don’t know. Do you not want them to know?”

You think about the question for a moment as you begin your drive home. “No I don’t mind if they know.”

“Well then I can get on the announcements come Monday and tell ev-” “Seungkwan no.”

You both laugh, “I just wonder what they would think.”

Seungkwan looks over at you as he makes the routine drive home and reaches out to hold your hand that sits on your knee. He laces his fingers through yours and brings your hand to his mouth for a kiss.

“I’m sure they would think we’re the cutest couple in the school.” He says smiling against your hand before giving it another kiss. “To be honest they probably already know.”

“What do you mean? You just said earlier you don’t know if they know?”

“Well if they were smarter and worked on their critical thinking skills maybe they would know.”

“How would they know?”

“Because every school-wide assembly I can never take my eyes off of you.”

You nudge Seungkwan’s shoulder as he lets out a loving laugh, making the final turn to pull up to your building’s parking lot. Once the car is parked he looks over at you in the comfortable silence, his hand reaching over to put a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Regardless of what they know now, they’ll know eventually.”

“Are you going to tell them?”

“I won’t have to, not when you show up one year as Mrs. Boo.”

#Seventeen #SVT #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seungkwan seventeen #boo seungkwan seventeen #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan reactions #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen drabbles #seungkwan fluff #Boo Seungkwan #Seungkwan #seungkwan svt

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angelamerry · 6 days ago

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Carmen x Nepo baby reader

origin story: tension, ambition, late nights, and the slow, quiet build of something real in a place where everyone’s hungry for more.

Title: Mise… Flawless

Setting: Culinary School, NYC — 5 years before The Bear

They weren’t friends.

Not really.

But they shared the same prep station.

Every morning, he’d show up twenty minutes early, hair messy under a backwards cap, sleeves already rolled. And she’d already be there—knife in hand, onions diced, mise en place flawless.

She didn’t talk much. Not like the others who barked their résumés to anyone who’d listen.

No one knew who she was. Just that she was quiet, calm under pressure, and unnervingly precise.

Carmen Berzatto watched her from the corner of his eye.

She didn’t just follow the recipes—she edited them. Subtly. Boldly. The instructors noticed, but never called her out.

Hell, half the class copied her cuts when the chef wasn’t looking.

Still, she never said where she came from. No restaurant name. No family name. She flew completely under the radar.

And Carmen—who’d grown up in a chaotic Chicago kitchen full of yelling, chaos, and barely-held-together family—was fascinated.

⸻

One night, after a brutal kitchen lab, he caught her alone.

Everyone else had bailed after cleanup. But she was still there, wiping down her cutting board like the stainless steel had personally insulted her.

He cleared his throat. “You always this intense?”

She didn’t glance up. “You always this curious?”

He smirked. “Depends. You hiding something?”

Her hands paused. Just for a second. Barely enough to register.

Then she said, “Aren’t we all?”

That was the first time she looked at him directly—steady, unreadable.

Something about it got under his skin.

Rumors swirled by the second semester.

There was a new restaurant being built in Manhattan—fully funded, no known owner. The faculty whispered that a “ghost heir” from a world-famous culinary dynasty was in the program, hiding in plain sight.

Carmen didn’t care about the noise. But he noticed how instructors started giving her space. How chefs with Michelin experience started showing up during her rotations. Watching. Asking questions.

She brushed it all off. Refused to explain.

But the first time she cooked her own menu for a final presentation—a twelve-course conceptual tasting with no name on the header—Carmen was stunned.

It was restrained. Brutal. Beautiful.

Exactly like her.

Afterward, he found her outside, sitting on the curb in her whites, smoking a clove cigarette like she didn’t have the whole world at her feet.

He sat next to her.

“Okay,” he said, finally. “Who are you?”

She glanced over.

“No one you’d be allowed to date,” she said dryly, blowing out smoke.

He snorted. “So that’s a no?”

She flicked ash to the pavement. “That’s a warning.”

And he never forgot it.

Writers Note: there will be a part 2 simply because…. However I don’t know how to add it into this one like how do I add like a part 2 button? I’m doing all this on my phone so maybe I’ll switch to computer? Also how do I create a master list 😭 I’m learning anyways part 2 should be up in a few! Ciao 🫣

#carmen berzatto fanfiction #the bear #fanfic #imagine #carmy x fem!reader #carmy x reader #camryberzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x you #carmy berzatto #carmen brezatto

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sarallokesh37 · 6 days ago

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direspecterpath · 6 years ago

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U.S. college bribery scandal grates on those who missed the cut

The U.S. college bribery scandal has unleashed angst and fury among parents, students and admissions experts, as an unprecedented criminal investigation draws attention to the privileges afforded to wealthy Americans.

Hollywood actors and business executives are among 50 people charged with taking part in the largest college admissions scandal in U.S. history, which involved getting students into elite, highly selective universities by paying bribes and cheating the admissions process.

Ordinary Americans were not amused.

"I've worked my butt off for four years trying to make myself seem really presentable, studying two hours a week for the SAT (entrance exam) and getting all As in my classes," said Connor Finn, 18, a senior at John Marshall High school in Los Angeles. "And then the fact that people would just pay hundreds of thousands of dollars and without the hard work is really not rewarding at all," he said.

Finn's father, Michael, said the teenager applied to a dozen universities, including University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA), where the daughter of one couple charged in the scandal was enrolled. Connor is still waiting for a response, his father said.

Dan Raffety, a college counsellor at the Elgin Academy prep school near Chicago, said he had a student with superb grades, perfect entrance exam scores and a resume full of extracurricular activities who was denied entry at Georgetown.

He said he was angered to think academically deserving students may have lost a spot to cheaters.

ACCESS TO POWER

Besides academic excellence, elite schools offer access for their graduates to a network of people in power.

"At some point this isn't really about education. This is about trying to get access," Rafferty said.

Many elite universities give preference to "legacy" applicants: the children of those who previously attended. In other cases, major financial gifts, including multimillion-dollar donations to construct buildings on campus, pave the way for the privileged. Both practices are legal.

The competition can be fierce and seem unfair even to people of privilege, however.

One wealthy Massachusetts parent said his son had excellent credentials but still was denied entry to Ivy League Brown University, even after the family spent thousands of dollars for a tutor to improve the boy's entrance exam scores.

Meanwhile, he said students whom he considered lesser academic talents gained an advantage by going to private prep schools, whose business model is to get students into elite universities.

"It's a booming business because parents are the ripest target in the world. They'll pay and do anything for their kids. And this (scandal) is an example of things gone awry," said the father, who asked to remain anonymous so he could speak freely.

His son chose to stay in public school and ended up at Tufts University, a highly rated school that nonetheless lacks Ivy League cachet.

LOOKING FOR DIVERSITY, TOO

The top universities have such an excess of qualified applicants they could limit their candidates to the best students with perfect entrance exam scores, admissions experts say.

They are also looking for diversity, accepting high achieving poor and minority students who cannot afford tutors and coaches.

"This scandal, most people would agree, is ridiculous," said Natasha Kumar Warikoo, a graduate professor of education at Harvard and author of "The Diversity Bargain," which examines how students at elite universities view affirmative action.

"But beyond that we don't have a consensus in the United States about what fair is," she added.

UCLA student Sandy Situ, 21, the daughter of immigrants, said the scandal had made her think about the uphill battle for those who are unable to attend the schools of their choice.

"I think about the resources that were taken away from them, the chances that they could have achieved something better, all the people who were turned away for people who could just pay their way in," Situ said. "What a sad moment this is for America."

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chitowntutorin · 1 month ago

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Private Tutoring in Chicago – Unlock Your Child’s Academic Potential

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teriwrites · 4 months ago

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Creature of Scandal: March 2019

My Live Reactions to Reading Through My 2018 Novel

So Charlotte's tour conveniently started in NYC, but now we're on to Boston!

Rather than watch her concert, we're currently watching Charlotte try to navigate public transit to a brunch spot Jerry's arranged for the touring crew

"So what's the special occasion for this brunch?" Charlotte asked when she'd finished her bite. Jerry cleared his throat from his bite of waffle. "I've been meaning to take you guys out for a meal at some point. And where better than the restaurant of my childhood friend?" "How sentimental of you, Jerry," Dylan teased. "If I were being anything other than professional, you wouldn't have been invited along." (wreck him)

I'm not sure there's really been any negative mentions of Charlotte's time in school before now, but her being back in Boston makes her Very uncomfortable

Also what a way for me to imply that she attended the Berklee College of Music lol

'Charlotte sat by Ashley, by the window to help cover herself. She watched the pedestrians pass, the people all waiting at the bus stop. She might have been one of them one - a student heading into town during free time between classes, anonymous and unnoticed. Now, she had to hide her face behind sunglasses, hoods, and scarves.' i really should've known better, what kind of music student has the Time to 'head into town' between classes lol

And now ig we're waiting for her to prep for an interview as she chats with Jennifer

Ugh and Jennifer is once again back to being really uncomfortably written. I feel like she oscillates between being fine to being painful. In this section, it's painful

Anyways, Jennifer's talking about how she's probably getting a new job at a different (better) bar

"That's awesome, Jen!" Charlotte tried to sound enthusiastic, but she felt guilty. She couldn't remember her best friend saying anything about looking for a new job. She'd never been a big fan of Clever Street Pub, sure, but when had she actively started seeking out somewhere else?' starting to fall behind in friends' lives can be such a brutal thing

Weird that this hotel doesn't have peepholes for their doors

But it wasn't a crazed fan or anything, just Dylan asking for her to return some keys she'd been hanging onto

And now we've jumped ahead to Chicago

Why in the world are they walking through Chicago trying to find their hotel??? Shouldn't they have driven to it???

"Charlotte Wilson?" the woman behind the front desk asked. So this would be her first encounter with a fan in Chicago. Charlotte nodded in confirmation. "That's me." "I have a message for you," was the unexpected reply. Charlotte did a double take, almost a little hurt that this woman hadn't known who she was, didn't seem to care about anything other than passing on her message.' (interesting reaction there, Charlotte, I thought fan encounters made you uncomfortable)

Awww the message is that Mike is coming to see her in Chicago!!

Me dunking on Chicago's O'Hare airport is so funny actually

Specifically me joking about O'Hare airport shutting down due to weather that's not even that bad

(I once got stuck in O'Hare overnight because like Every flight got cancelled, and I could make an entire post the length of one of these detailing that story)

(And that story happened in summer of 2017, so like definitely would've still been relatively fresh in my mind in 2018)

"At least O'Hare didn't close before we got here," Charlotte relented. "Can you imagine the pandemonium? The press would go wild. 'Charlotte Wilson Can't Even Show Up!'" "That," Dylan commented, tilting his head down to look at her more directly, "is a terrible headline. You would never make it in the media business." (the sass master at it again)

For a song about a musician, very few of her shows are actually depicted with any detail rip

Apparently Chicago has been the worst show so far, since it was outside (but partially-covered for like the stage and some of the seating) but the lawn was like empty

But it's fine! Because Mike's here!

They don't actually get much time together bc Charlotte's fully falling asleep standing up at this point, she's Exhausted, but they had a nice little chat about how wedding prep is going and catching up generally, which is sweet

"I don't want you to think too much about this," Mike began. The best way to begin a sentence that would undoubtedly consume Charlotte's thoughts.' real

It's fine, it's just that he thinks they should look for a new apartment after touring and everything is done

Ending Thoughts:

Okay, I'm starting to actually Feel some of the annoyance I felt in writing the story lol A lot of what I'm actually reading feels more like the in-between scenes that should be Skipped, rather than what should be present in the story. There are definitely plenty of moments that are highlighting some of the changes Charlotte's going with in regards to her fame - her borderline annoyance at not being recognized, her absolute exhaustion and complete reliance on energy drinks, her developing relationships with her bandmates, her not keeping up with loved ones. But there's so little of the actual fame being shown at this point that it's hard to really understand what the scope of where she's at it supposed to be. The final two sections are both short, so I'm going to be doing both of them together, and we'll see if any of this turns around. Because outside of the weird sense of focus, I'm enjoying it! Charlotte is an interesting, engaging character, and knowing where she's supposed to go from here makes watching some of her unfolding development really fun.

#teriwrites down memory lane #teri talks #my wips

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testprepchicago · 8 months ago

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SAT Test Prep in Chicago: Your Path to College Success

Preparing for the SAT is a crucial milestone for students aiming to secure their place at top colleges and universities. For students in the Windy City, finding the right resources for SAT test prep in Chicago can make all the difference. At Chitown, we specialize in providing personalized, effective SAT prep programs designed to help students achieve their highest potential.

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Given its significance, investing in professional SAT test prep ensures students are well-prepared to tackle this important challenge.

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The SAT is designed to test both knowledge and strategy, which can be intimidating without proper preparation. Common challenges include:

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At Chitown, we’ve developed a results-driven approach to SAT test prep in Chicago that empowers students to overcome these challenges. Our comprehensive programs include:

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Chicago is home to a wealth of academic opportunities, and SAT prep can help students take full advantage of them. With access to high-quality tutors and resources, students can:

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Take the First Step with Chitown Achieving a great SAT score isn’t just about intelligence—it’s about preparation, strategy, and confidence. At Chitown, we’re here to guide you every step of the way with our expert SAT test prep in Chicago programs.

#SAT Test Prep

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masterclasspace · 1 year ago

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Masterclass Space is known to provide quality SAT coaching assistance by availing highly proficient teaching faculty, designing individual programs, and the use of some unique strategies. It can therefore be seen that their strategies cover pretty much every aspect of the SAT that a student might come across, therefore covering all bases.

#Top SAT Prep Classes in New Jersey

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testgeekus · 5 years ago

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#Act Prep Chicago #Sat Prep Chicago #Sat Tutoring Chicago #Act Tutoring Chicago #Sat Prep Classes Chicago

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shakespeareanwannabe · 3 years ago

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One Hell of a Year: September

Summary: When Molly Henderson makes the move from Chicago to Lockhart, Texas, she doesn’t expect much. A new teaching job, a new community, and maybe a few new friends, but what she didn’t expect was to meet Michael Perry, a man with a heart of gold, October eyes, and a smile that made her tummy do a strange little flip-flop. With Michael by her side, Molly finds that she may just be able to not only find a life in Lockhart, but thrive there as well.

Warnings: swearing, yearning, anxiety

Disclaimer: Won’t Back Down and it’s character Michael Perry do not belong to me.

Divider provided by @firefly-graphics

Molly looked up at the sound of a knock on her door.

“I figured you’d be a morning teacher,” Michael joked as he gently shouldered the door open.

Molly sighed. “I think I’m an ‘all hours of the day’ teacher. I’ll do whatever it takes to limit what I have to take home with me.”

Michael nodded understandingly. “You couldn’t have had to do much prep this morning, right? It’s the first day.”

She shrugged shyly. “No, it was more of a…nervous thing. If I sat at home, I’d be counting the minutes until I could leave to come here. So, I figured I would come here and torture myself with listening to the ticking of the clock.”

Michael pulled one of the student’s chairs closer to her desk and flipped it around, straddling it as he held out a cup of coffee.

“Well, this was supposed to be a first day gift, but I guess now it’s a ‘don’t worry, they’re going to love you’ gift.”

Molly eagerly took the proffered paper cup and took a sniff. “You’re an angel, Mr. Perry,” she sighed, taking a sip of coffee to hide her smile at the way he rubbed his neck and broke eye contact at her words.

“I, uh, I didn’t know how you take it, so I just left it black. But,” he dug into his pockets. “I grabbed some sugar packets if you want. And I can run and get some milk from the staff room if you want it. I—”

“Michael,” she called softly, reaching out to grab his hand as he tried to stand up. “This is perfect. Thank you, it was really sweet of you to think of me.”

“Oh…” Michael grinned shyly. “You’re welcome.” He resettled in his chair and sipped at his own coffee. “So, why the first day nerves?”

She shrugged and settled back into her chair, sipping thoughtfully at her coffee. “I mean, why does anyone get first day jitters? New kids, new school, new city. I read the notes that their teacher from last year left about my class, and I’m about as prepared as I can be, but anything could have changed over the summer, y’know?”

Michael nodded. “I get that. But you built a bright, colourful, and comfortable classroom for them. You’re smart and friendly and caring, and kids know how to sense that kind of thing.”

Molly felt her face heat up. “Yeah, but—”

“Nope. No ‘buts’. You’re going to kick ass this year, I can already tell,” Michael winked.

Molly giggled. “How are you so confident?”

Michael chuckled. “Haven’t you been paying attention? I’m the weird male teacher across the hall who plays ukulele and makes up songs to help my students succeed. If I wasn’t confident, none of that stuff would work on them. I believe in it, so they believe in it. You –” he reached out and squeezed her forearm, leaving tingles in his wake. “You just have to believe in yourself and all the stuff that makes you an awesome teacher. The kids will lap it up and fall in love with you. Trust me.”

Molly felt her face heat up, a pattern she was beginning to recognize whenever she was in Michael’s presence.

“Thank you, Michael. That…that means a lot.”

Michael smiled warmly at her, and she felt herself melt even further. The walls she had built around herself were slowly becoming obsolete, and it was all because of the kind man in front of her. Still, she tried to steel the last of her nerves against him. She wouldn’t let herself go down this path. Not again.

She tempered her smile and gently pulled her arm away from him under the guise of reaching for her coffee.

“Thank you again for this. And for all your help in setting up this place.”

He nodded, seeming to understand the invisible boundary he had stepped over. “No problem. I’m happy to help. Remember, I’m just across the hall if you need any help.”

“Thanks, but…” she trailed off as her eyes caught on the large round clock above the door. “Shit!”

Michael jumped. “What?”

“God, I’m so sorry. I forgot that I signed up for morning duty every day, and it’s about to start. I’ve gotta…” she let herself trail off as she leaped out of her seat, trying desperately to straighten the pretty floral dress she had chosen for her first day, steady herself on the low heels she had jammed her feet into, and chug the rest of her coffee.

“Hey, hey, easy, tiger!” She gratefully grabbed Michael’s hand to steady herself as she changed her heels into her outdoor shoes. “Just breathe, okay, Molly?” She took a moment to match her breathing to his and ignore the heat of his hand in hers. “You good?”

She nodded gratefully. “Thank you. I just…”

“Don’t want to mess this up?” he finished helpfully. “You won’t. All the teachers cover the morning duty on the first day, so the kids are not unsupervised right now, and you’re not even late. So, take another deep breath, take another sip of coffee, and let’s get out there.”

Michael waited as she followed his instructions, then followed him out of the classroom and into the outdoor courtyard.

Outside was bustling with the typical hubbub of the first day. Anxious first graders clung to their parents, older students were laughing with friends they hadn’t seen since June, and parents were crowded around the class lists, shouting out to their kids who their teacher for the year would be.

“Mr. Perry! Mr. Perry!”

Michael smiled in the direction of the smiling kids and gave Molly a reassuring nudge.

“You’ve got this, teach,” he whispered before heading in the kids’ direction, a broad smile lighting up his face.

Molly straightened her spine, pasted on her warmest smile, and stepped out into the bright sunlight of the courtyard. “I got this,” she whispered to herself.

There was something to be said about the first day of school.

Molly’s class of 30 fourth graders had settled in spectacularly to the school routine so far, even going so far as to help her work the intercom system to submit her attendance, which she would have forgotten all about if it hadn’t been for a sweet girl named Madison reminding her.

The classroom rules had been decided upon, ice breaker games were played, and Molly had read them a book about first day jitters, ending with them all drinking their ‘jitter juice’ (plain ginger ale mixed with grenadine and a hint of lime juice) and eating their ‘jitter beans’ (bubble gum flavoured jellybeans).

At their first recess, Molly had made a run for the bathroom and then the photocopier, realizing that she was two copies short of every activity she had planned. She had just bitten into her apple when the bell rang, signalling that the kids were coming back inside. Rather than move to the staff room, she had stayed in her classroom, chatting with the kids about their lunches and favourite foods.

While the kids worked on a journal entry about their summer vacation, Molly had begun setting the stage for her reading program, even going so far as to read a few short stories with some of the kids.

By the time she had finished reading with the third student, the bell was ringing for lunch, and Molly was exhausted, but a student named Henry requesting assistance with opening his thermos had kept her stuck to her seat. It wasn’t until the bell rang for recess that Molly decided to venture towards the staff room for the first time.

She was just turning about to reach for the doorknob when the door opened and she ran into a broad leather-clad back.

��Oh god, I’m so sorry, Molly!” Michael chuckled nervously as he held her elbow steady and checked her over. “I swear, I don’t normally exit rooms back first.”

Molly waved her hand dismissively and brushed her hair out of her face. “Don’t worry about it, Michael. No harm, no foul. After all the yammering I’ve done, nobody could have blamed you for bumping me a little harder.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Don’t start with that, honey. I told you, I like the yammering. And I’d never hurt you.”

Molly’s heart thudded. She knew he didn’t know exactly what those words would mean to her, but they wiggled into her heart and made a home there quickly.

“Oh, um…thank you,” she stuttered.

Michael grinned shyly. “Don’t mention it. Are you on your way in?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I figured I should get in there and show my face before I get a reputation as the stuck-up new girl.”

Michael scoffed. “If anybody starts that rumor, send them to me and I’ll set them straight.”

“Oh, my hero,” she simpered playfully in return.

Michael smirked. “I wish you had joined us in there earlier. I’ve got outdoor duty right now, but I could’ve played your knight in shining armour if anyone got too mouthy.”

“Well, hopefully I’ll catch you next time,” she replied before she could overthink it.

Michael nodded, a sweet smile gracing his handsome features for a split second. “Hopefully.”

Molly watched him walk away down the hallway, whistling a little tune to himself as he made his way to the doors that led to the grassy field.

She moaned to herself and stomped her foot petulantly. It was just her luck to find a sweet, charming, handsome, seemingly single guy who was for all intents and purposes into her, and he worked across the hall.

“It’s not fair,” she whined quietly to herself.

“Ugh, I know right?”

Molly jumped a mile out of her skin as she turned, coming face to face with Lauren and Alex, both with shit-eating grins on their faces.

“Wh-wh…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled, turning into the staff room.

“Honey, I’ve been willing to get with that for each and every one of the five years I’ve known Michael,” Lauren huffed as she took a seat at a round table and kicked out the chair nearest Molly for her to sit. “My husband Ken knows Michael Perry is on my ‘List’.”

Alex dropped into the third chair at the table. “Hell, he’s on the ‘List’ of at least half the married women at this school, and at least five of the single women have admitted to wanting to sleep with him.”

“List? You mean…”

“The list of people you’re allowed to cheat on your spouse with,” Lauren filled in helpfully. “Ever since Michael Perry walked his fine ass into this establishment five years ago, he has had the attention of at least 80% of the female population. And clearly, that’s not counting the guys.”

“It doesn’t help that he’s so damn nice too,” Alex groaned. “Sweet, charming, and helpful. But he shows no interest in anyone until you waltz in here. Then, he’s smitten. What’s your secret?”

Molly tensed but shrugged. “I…I don’t have one.”

Lauren smacked Alex’s shoulder. “Give it a rest, man. You’re freaking her out.”

Alex sighed and turned to her; contriteness written all over his face. “Sorry, Molly. I shouldn’t be giving you this kind of shit when you’ve known me for, like, two days. But you’re a good person, and I think we’re gonna be good friends, so you just let me know when I can start giving you shit, okay?”

A giggle sputtered out of Molly before she could stop it. “You got it, Alex.”

Lauren smiled and bit into her salad. “Welcome to Jefferson, Molly. You’re gonna love it.”

“Well, well, well, look who we have here!” a voice sang quietly across the empty staff room. Molly looked up and smiled as Michael strode across the room and settled into the seat across from hers. “You on prep too?”

She smiled and nodded. “Yeah, my kids are with Corinne Fischer for gym right now.”

“Well, that’s fortuitous,” Michael smiled, pulling his math textbook towards him. “Do they have gym every day at this time?”

Molly nodded with a smile. “Either gym or health or Spanish.”

Michael smiled back warmly. “Mine too. They’re with Senorita Rivera now.”

Molly rolled her eyes playfully. “You mean I have to share my prep time with you?”

Michael held his hands up in defense. “And here I was thinking you enjoyed my company.”

She shrugged. “It’s alright, I guess.”

Michael laughed deeply, the sound traveling straight to her heart. “Just alright? I’ll have to step up my game then.”

“You can try,” she teased before turning her attention back to the book in front of her.

“Is that more of that Shakespeare for Kids stuff?”

She nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah. Whoever had them last year did a good job with their reading levels. Most of them are right where they should be. So I think they should be able to handle something like Midsummer.”

“May I?”

Molly considered his outstretched hand before handing him the book, careful not to dislodge the multiple sticky notes sticking out of it. In return, she pulled the math textbook towards her, reading the notes he had made on the numeracy units. She grabbed a bright pink sticky note of her own and jotted down some of his ideas while also thinking about an activity or two that might help him out.

A comfortable silence fell over them, and Molly felt herself relax for the first time that day. As hard as she was trying to convince herself to keep Michael Perry at an arm’s length, she couldn’t deny the sweet peace she felt whenever she was with him. Even on a day as stressful as the first day of school, and even after having only known him for approximately two days, she felt calm with him. It felt good, and that terrified her. She had worked too hard, sacrificed too much to not focus on her job. A workplace romance with her cohort partner was just a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea, no matter how his sweet smile made her feel.

“You know,” Michael hummed thoughtfully, successfully distracting Molly from her depressing line of thought. “We do a biannual school play here, and I’m pretty sure this is the year for it. If you wanted, we could pitch the idea to Renata.”

Molly’s eyebrows skyrocketed. “Idea? You mean, getting the kids to perform Shakespeare?”

Michael shrugged. “Yeah, why not? We could make it a cross-curricular or integrated thing. Drama for the acting and the rehearsals, English for understanding the characters and the plot…” He met her gaze with a twinkle in his eyes, and Molly could almost forget what she had just been arguing with herself about.

Giving herself a shake, she took the proffered book back from Michael and leafed through the pages. She had always encouraged her kids to get dramatic with the writing, to see it in its true form of being a script, but they had always performed in the safety of the classroom, not as a school wide activity. However…

Slowly, Molly began nodding her head. “We could use visual arts periods to make backdrops and costumes. We could probably swing teaching some measurement while making those backdrops too. If we get greenlit early enough, everything would definitely be ready by end of the school year.” She chewed on her bottom lip anxiously, eyes racing over the page like a hound with a newly found scent.

“We could probably cut down on costs too by reusing old materials and making stuff ourselves,” Michael added helpfully.

Molly looked up and grinned at him. “You sure? It’s gonna be a lot of work.”

“Of course, I’m sure,” he replied, leaning a touch closer. “It might be hard, but it’ll also be a hell of a lot of fun.”

Molly was already nodding. “Then yes. Let’s do it!”

Michael and Molly had presented their proposal together to Renata, and she had promised to get back to them as soon as the school’s budget for the year had been finalized. Until then, life at Jefferson moved on and Molly slowly settled into her new routine.

She’d arrive at school early every day, giving her enough time to double check all her photocopies, prepare the calendar for the day, and answer any work emails that she needed to get to. By the time she was closing her email, Michael would be popping his head into her room, almost always bearing a cup of coffee for her. After finding out that Michael tended to skip breakfast because he woke up too late, and in exchange for the coffee, Molly started bringing muffins for them to munch on while they chatted about their nights and the day ahead. He’d walk her to the outside door for her morning duty, then disappear into his own classroom with a smile on his face.

At first recess, they would be too busy to chat or meet with each other, barring a quick smile and a quippy remark in the hallway when they passed by on their ways to and from the bathroom and copy room.

Molly started spending her whole lunch break in the staff room, and she swore it was not because Michael would spend his time there before heading outside for his recess duty. Though they always sat together, she insisted it was to help her make friends with the rest of the staff, which she had done, to an extent. Corinne Fischer, the gym teacher, and Laura Rivera, the Spanish teacher, were now two people she could consider her friends. And, of course, Lauren and Alex, who, true to his word, hadn’t mentioned a single thing about her non-relationship with Michael.

Second recess was spent just trying to catch her breath, and her prep periods were spent in the staff room with Michael, sometimes in companionable silence, sometimes helping each other with new strategies and ideas for teaching different concepts.

After school, Molly would make sure everything was ready for the next day, and she would always call goodbye to Michael as she left.

Overall, Molly loved her new routine. While some would call it boring, she loved it. She loved the stability of coming to her job every day while knowing that somehow, something wouldn’t go to plan. Predictable instability, she liked to call it. She loved her coworkers, she loved her friends, and she loved spending time with Michael, who was slowly but surely becoming her best friend.

“Pssst!” Michael hissed playfully as he snuck in through her cracked door, Molly waving him in from her slumped perch on her desk chair.

It was far later than either of them should have been at school, and yet, they were still there.

Meet the Teacher Night was a school wide tradition, and one that was not taken lightly by staff or students.

A few staff members brought their grills and cooked up a veritable feast of hot dogs and hamburgers that were donated by a local butcher shop for the event. Michael was a hit in his black “This is What an Awesome Teacher Looks Like” apron as he manned one of the grills, and Molly was relieved to find that her students’ parents were extremely pleased with how the month had gone.

Now, after suffering through 30 different classroom tours and talking to 27 different pairs of parents and legal guardians, Molly was too tired to move other than to wave Michael inside and beg him to close the door.

“I come bearing gifts,” he whispered as he laid two large slices of cake on her desk.

Molly nearly moaned at the sight. “Remember a few weeks ago when I called you an angel?” Michael nodded. “I was wrong. You’re actually a saint.”

Michael chuckled as he pulled one of the student chairs up to her desk and produced two plastic forks from his back pocket. “Well, don’t go canonizing me yet. I couldn’t get you any of the chocolate cake, so we’re stuck with the vanilla.”

In response, Molly scooped a large bite of cake into her mouth, frosting smearing across her lips. “All cake is good cake,” she mumbled around the bite, closing her eyes in bliss as she could feel the sugar soaking into her bloodstream.

Michael giggled and took a bite of his own, moaning at the taste. “Oh god, this is the best cake I’ve ever eaten.”

Molly opened her eyes and matched his giggle. “You’ve, uh, kinda missed your mouth there, Mr. Perry.”

Michael opened his eyes and flushed. “Oh, um…” he tried wiping his cheek but only succeeded in smearing the blue frosting even more.

“Here, I’ve got it.” Hesitating for only a beat, Molly wet her thumb with her tongue and rubbed his face clean of the frosting.

“Thanks,” Michael murmured, meeting her gaze hesitantly.

Molly, taken aback by how he suddenly seemed so close, pulled away slightly and giggled nervously. “Don’t mention it.”

“Um, well, I wouldn’t but…” Michael pointed to her lips. “You’ve got some right there.” Hand stuttering in midair, Michael reached out and brushed the frosting from her lip. “There.”

Molly’s breath stopped, her heart suspended in some sort of limbo.

He was so close. And not because she had accidentally invaded his personal space, but because he had chosen to be there. He was so close she could almost count the flecks of gold that made those warm brown eyes of his so soothing, and she could definitely smell his aftershave through the smoky scent of the barbecue that lingered around him. He was so close and he seemed to be moving closer, his nose rubbing against hers as his eyes searched for something in her gaze. It felt like they were sharing one breath, the oxygen not having time to escape from the space between them. Molly felt her eyes flutter closed as his forehead leaned against hers.

Forehead to forehead is holy forehead’s kiss. She shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help herself. She’d spent the better part of a month going through every reason that this was a very bad idea, but in that moment, in that shared breath, she didn’t care.

Her eyes fluttered open again and met his warm autumn gaze, feeling the heat rise in her as he stared back into her soul, nose brushing hers again.

“Molly, I…”

The sound snapped her out of it and back into her chair, which she had been precariously leaning out of.

Michael sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, I must’ve been reading the signals wrong. I’m really sorry.”

Something shrunk inside her as he stood to leave, a dark, sucking feeling that seemed to absorb all the lightness she felt in his presence.

“Michael, wait!” she bolted to her feet and lightly touched his arm. “You…you don’t have to be sorry,” she whispered to his back. “You’re not misreading the signs, I just…” she folded her arms across her chest protectively and avoided his eyes as he turned around. “It hasn’t been the easiest couple of years for me, relationship wise,” she mumbled.

She heard him sigh and nearly bit through her lip when he placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

“I get that, trust me,” he reassured. “But I don’t think it’s much of a secret that I really like you, and…if you were to ever want to give this a shot…” he allowed his words to drift off as she lifted her head and met his gaze dead on.

“I’d really like that, Michael,” she admitted softly, a sweet smile on her face. “Just…give me time, okay?”

He nodded with a bright smile. “Sure, honey. Whatever you need, I swear.”

“Thank you for understanding. I—”

A quick knock turned their attention to Renata standing, framed by the doorway.

“Oh good, you’re both here,” she said, smiling. “I just heard back from the district, and our budget has been set. There’s enough in there for your school play, if that’s something you still want to do.”

The two teachers smiled brightly at each other, hope shining in their eyes, as they turned towards the principal and nodded.

There was a lot they wanted to do together, and the school play was just the beginning.

Tags List: @budcooper, @wasicskosgirl, @aellynera, @beenthroughalot, @itspdameronthings

#michael perry #michael perry imagine #michael perry x molly henderson #wont back down fic #wont back down #one hell of a year fic #oscar issac #oscar isaac characters

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bensk · 4 years ago

Text

Be curious. Be humble. Be useful.

I was invited to give the annual Taub Lecture for graduating Public Policy students at the University of Chicago, my alma mater and the department from which I graduated. This is what I came up with.

---

I am incredibly grateful and honored to be here tonight. The Public Policy program literally changed my life.

My name is Ben Samuels-Kalow, my pronouns are he/him/his. I’m a 2012 Public Policy graduate, and I will permit myself one “back in my day” comment: When I was a student here, the “Taub Lecture” were actual lectures given by Professor Taub in our Implementation class. I’ve spent the last nine years teaching in the South Bronx. For the past two years, I have served as Head of School at Creo College Prep, a public charter school that opened in 2019.

I was asked tonight to tell you a bit about my journey, and the work that I do. My objection to doing this is that there is basically nothing less interesting than listening to a white man tell you how he got somewhere, so I'll keep it brief. I grew up in New York City and went to a public high school that turned out Justice Elena Kagan, Chris Hayes, Lin-Manuel Miranda, among many others…none of whom were available tonight.

We, on this Zoom, all have one thing in common — we have been very, very close to graduating from the University of Chicago. I have never sat quite where you sit. I didn’t graduate into a pandemic. But the truth is that everyone graduates into a crisis. The periods of relative ease, the so-called “ends of history”, even the end of this pandemic, are really matters of forced perspective. This crisis isn’t over. Periods of relative peace and stability paper over chasms of structural inequality.

You went to college with the people who will write the books and go on the talk shows and coin the phrases to describe our times. You could write that book. You could go into consulting and spend six weeks at a time helping a company figure out how to maximize profits from their Trademark Chasm Expanding Products.

You could also run into the chasm.

What is the chasm?

It is the distance between potential and opportunity. It is a University on the South Side of Chicago with a student body that is 10% Black and 15% Latinx, with a faculty that is 65% white.

It is eight Black students being admitted to a top high school in New York City...in a class of 749.

What is the chasm?

The chasm is that in our neighborhood in The Bronx, where I’m standing right now, 1 in 4 students can read a book on their grade level, and only 1 in 10 will ever sit in a college class.

It is maternal mortality and COVID survival rates. The chasm is generational wealth and payday loans.

It is systemic racism and misogyny.

It is the case for activism and reparations.

In my job, the chasm is the distance between the creativity, brilliance, and wit that my students possess, and the opportunities the schools in our neighborhood provide.

In the zip code in which I grew up in New York City, the median income is $122,169. In the zip code where I have spent every day working since I graduated from UChicago, the median income is $30,349. The school where I went to 7th grade and this school where next year we will have our first 7th grade are only a 15 minute drive apart.

In my first quarter at UChicago, I joined the Neighborhood Schools Program, and immediately fell in love with working in schools. I joined NSP because a friend told me how interesting she found the work. I’d done some tutoring in high school, and had taught karate since I was 15. I applied, was accepted, and worked at Hyde Park Academy on 62nd and Stony Island in a variety of capacities from 2008 to 2012.

At the time, Hyde Park Academy had one of very few International Baccalaureate programs on the South Side, and every spring, parents would line up out the door of the school to try to get their rising 9th grader in. I worked with an incredible mentor teacher and successive classes of high school seniors whose wit, creativity, and skill would've been at home in the seminars and dorm discussions we all have participated in three blocks north of their high school.

In my work at Hyde Park Academy, I learned the first lesson of three lessons that have shaped my career as a teacher. Be curious. I had been told in Orientation that there were “borders” to the UChicago experience, lines we should not cross. I am forever grateful to the people who told me to ignore that BS. Our entire department is a testimony to ignoring that BS. We ask questions like, why did parents line up for hours to get into what was considered a “failing” high school? Why had no one asked my kids to write poetry before? Why are they more creative and better at writing than most of the kids I went to high school with, but there is only one IB class and families have to literally compete to get in? I learned as much from my job three blocks south of the University as I did in my classes at the University...which is to say, I was learning a LOT, but I had a lot more to learn.

I knew I wanted to be a teacher from my first quarter here. I did my research. The Boston Teacher Residency was the top program in the country, so I applied there. I was a 21 year old white man interested in education, so...I applied to Teach for America. In the early 2010’s, I looked like the default avatar on a Teach for America profile. It was my backup option. I was all in on Boston, and was sure, with four years working in urban schools, a stint at the Urban Education Institute, and, at the time, seven years of karate teaching under my belt, I was a shoe in.

I was rejected from both programs. Which brings me to my second lesson. Be humble. We are destined for and entitled to nothing. There is an aphorism I learned from one of my favorite podcasts, Another Round: "carry yourself with the confidence of a mediocre white man." If you are a mediocre white man, like me, do as much as you can not to be. If you look like me, you live life on the "lowest difficulty setting." This means I need to question my gifts, contextualize my successes, and actively work against systems of oppression that perpetuate inequity.

Over the last two years, I have interviewed over 300 people to work at this school. There are a series of questions that I ask folks with backgrounds like myself:

Have you ever lived in a neighborhood that was majority people of color?

Have you ever worked on a team that was majority people of color?

Have you ever worked for a boss/supervisor/leader who was a person of color?

The vast majority of white folks, myself at 21 included, could not answer “yes” to these three questions. This is disappointing, but I've also lived and worked in two of the most segregated cities on this continent, so it is not surprising. By the time I sat where you’re sitting now, I had learned a lot about education policy and sociology. I'd taken every class that Chad offered at the time. I'd worked at UEI, I'd worked in a South Side high school for four years, and I still thought I was entitled to something. Unlearning doesn't usually happen in a moment, and I certainly didn't realize it at the time, but these rejections were the best thing that has happened to me in my growth as a human.

I moved back home to New York, was accepted to my last-choice teaching program, and started teaching at MS 223: The Laboratory School of Finance & Technology. I ended up teaching there for 5 years. I had incredible mentors, met some of my best friends, started a Computer Science program that’s used as a model at hundreds of schools across New York City…and most importantly, while making copies for Summer School in July of 2015, I met my wife.

All this to say — if you aren’t 100% convinced that what you’re doing next year is Your Thing, keep an open mind…and make frequent stops in the copy room.

I learned that teaching was My Thing. I didn't want to do ed policy research. I got to set education policy, conduct case studies, key informant interviews, run statistical analysis…with 12 year olds. This was the thing I couldn’t stop talking about, reading about, learning about. I really and truly did not care about the “UChicago voices” of my parents and my friends who kept asking what I was going to do next. My answer: teach.

If you look like me, and you teach Computer Science, there are opportunities that come flying your way. I was offered jobs with more prestige, jobs with more pay, jobs far away from the South Bronx. I was offered jobs I would have loved. But I’d learned a third lesson: be useful. If you have a degree from this place, people will always ask you what the next promotion or job is. They will ask "what's next for you" and they will mean it with respect and admiration.

Here’s the thing: teaching was what’s next. “But don’t you want to work in policy?” Teaching is a political act. It is hands-on activism, it is community organizing, it is high-tech optimistic problem-solving and low-tech relationship building. It is the reason we have the privilege of choosing a career, and it is a career worth choosing.

I had internalized what I like to call the Dumbledore Principle: “I had learned that I was not to be trusted with power.” This meant unlearning the very UChicago idea that if you were smart and if you think and talk like we are trained to think and talk at this place, you should be in charge. The best things in my life have come from unlearning that. Learning from mentors to never speak the way I was praised for in a seminar. Learning from veteran teachers how to be a warm demander who was my authentic best self...and more importantly brought out the authentic best self in my students. Being useful isn't the same thing as being in charge…and that is ok.

I believe this deeply. Which is why, when I was offered the opportunity to design and open a school, my first thought was absolutely the hell no. I said to my wife: “I’m a teacher. Dumbledore Principle — we’re supposed to teach, make our classrooms safe and wonderful for our kids.”

I also knew that teaching kids to code wasn’t worth a damn if they couldn’t read and write with conviction, so I started looking for schools that did both — treated kids like brilliant creatives who should learn to create the future AND met them where they were with rigorous coursework that closed opportunity gaps. In our neighborhood, there were schools that did the latter, that got incredible results for kids. Then there was my school, where kids learned eight programming languages before they graduated, but at which only 40% of our kids could read.

We were lauded for this, by the way. 40% was twice the average in our district. We were praised for the Computer Science — the mayor of New York and the CEO of Microsoft visited and met with my students. It felt great. I wasn’t convinced it was useful.

Kids in the neighborhood where I grew up didn’t have to choose between a school that was interesting and a school that equipped them with the knowledge and skills to pursue their own interests in college and beyond. Why did our students have to choose? I delivered this stressed-out existential monologue to my wife that boiled down to this: every kid deserves a school where they were always safe, and never bored. We weren’t working at a school like that. I was being offered a chance to design one. But…Dumbledore principle.

My wife took it all in, looked at me, and said: “You idiot. Dumbledore RAN a school.”

Friends, you deserve a partner like this.

The road to opening Creo College Prep, and the last two years of leading our school as we opened, closed, opened online, finished our first year, moved buildings, opened online again, opened in-person (kind of) and now head into our third year, has reinforced my lessons from teaching — be curious, be humble, be useful. These lessons are about both learning and unlearning. A white guy doing Teach for America at 21 is a stereotype. A white guy starting a charter school is a stereotype with significant capital, wading into complicated political and pedagogical waters. The lessons I learn opening a school and the unlearning I must do to be worthy of the work are not destinations, they are journeys.

Be curious

I didn’t just open a school. Schools are communities, they are institutions, and they are bureaucracies. If you work very, very hard, and with the right people, they become engines that turn coffee and human potential into joy and intellectual thriving capable of altering the trajectory of a child’s life.

First you have to find the right people. I joined a school design fellowship, spent a year visiting 50 high-performing schools across the country, recruited a founding board of smart, committed people who hold me accountable, and spent time in my community learning from families what they wanted in a school. There is studying public policy, and then there is attending Community Board meetings and Community Education Council Meetings, and standing outside of the Parkchester Macy's handing out flyers and getting petition signatures at Christmastime next to the mall Santa.

I observed in schools while writing my BA, and as a teacher, but it was in this fellowship that I learned to “thin slice,” a term we borrowed from psychology that refers to observing a small interaction and finding patterns about the emotions and values of people. In a school, it means observing small but crucial moments — how does arrival work, how are students called on, how do they ask for help in a classroom, how do they enter and leave spaces, how do they move through the hallways, where and how do teachers get their work done — and gleaning what a school values, and how that translates into impact for kids. Here’s how I look at schools:

Does every adult have an unwavering belief that students can, must, and will learn at the highest level?

Do they have realistic and urgent plans for getting every kid there? Are these beliefs and plans clear and held by kids?

Are all teachers strategic, valorizing planning and intellectual nerdery over control or power?

Is the curriculum worthy of the kids?

Can kids explain why the school does things they way they do? Can staff? Can the leader?

If I'm in the middle of teaching and I need a pen or a marker, what do I do? Is that clear?

What’s the attendance rate? How do we follow up on kids who aren’t here?

How organized and thoughtful are the physical and digital spaces?

Are kids seen by their teachers? Are their names pronounced correctly? Do their teachers look like them? Do they make them laugh, think, and revise their answers?

Would I want to work here? Would I send my own kids here?

Be humble

I learned that there are really two distinct organizations that we call “school.” One is an accumulation of talent (student and staff) that happens to be in the same place at the same time, operating on largely the same schedule.

These were the schools I attended. These are schools you got to go to if you got lucky and you were born in a zip code with high income and high opportunity. These are schools where you had teachers who were intellectually curious, and classmates whose learning deficits could be papered over by social capital…and sometimes, straight up capital.

“Accumulation of talent” also describes the schools I worked at. These were schools where if you got lucky and you were extraordinary in your intelligence, determination, support network, and teachers who’d decided to believe in you, you became one of the stories we told. “She got into Cornell.” “That whole English class got into four year colleges.”

Most schools in this country, it turns out, are run like this. I knew all about local control and the limits of federal standards on education and the battles over teacher evaluations and so much other helpful and important context I learned in my PBPL classes. But when thin-slicing a kindergarten classroom in Nashville on my first school visit of the Fellowship, I saw a whole other possibility of what “school” can be.

School can be a special place organized towards a single purpose. One team, one mission. Where the work kids do in one class directly connects to the next, and builds on the prior year. Where kids are treated like the important people they are and the important people they will be, where students and staff hold each other to a high bar, where there is rigor and joy. A place where staff train together so that instead of separate classrooms telling separate stories about how to achieve, there is one coherent language that gives kids the thing they crave and deserve above all else: consistency.

We get up every morning to build a school like that. It’s why my team starts staff training a month before the first day of school. It’s why we practice teaching our lessons so that we don’t waste a moment of our kids’ time. It’s why everyone at our school has a coach, including me, so we can be a better teacher tomorrow than we were today. It’s why we plan engaging, culturally responsive, relevant lessons. It’s how we keep a simple, crucial promise to every family: at this school, you will always be safe, and you will never be bored.

Be useful

Statistically speaking, it is not out of the realm of possibility that several of you will one day be in a position to make big sweeping policy changes. You will have the power to not only write position papers, but to Make Big Plans. I will be rooting for you, but I hope that you won’t pursue Big Plans for the sake of Big Plans.

The architect who designed the Midway reportedly said "make no little plans; they have no magic to stir men's blood." I had that quoted to me in several lectures at this school, and you know what?

It’s bullshit.

I am asking you not to care about scale. Good policy isn’t about scale, it’s about implementation, and implementation requires the right people on the ground. Implementation can scale. The right people cannot. We can Make Big Plans, but every 6th grade math class still needs an excellent math teacher. That's a job worth doing. I could dream about starting 20 schools, but every school needs a leader. That’s a job worth doing. Places like UChicago teach us to ask "what's next" for our own advancement, to do this now so we can get to that later. I learned to ask "what's next" to be as useful as possible to as many kids as I have in front of me.

I hold these two thoughts in my mind:

The educational realities of the South Bronx have a lot more to do with where highways were built in our neighborhood than with No Child Left Behind or charter schools, and require comprehensive policy change that address not only educational inequity, but environmental justice, and systemic racism.

The most useful policy changes I can make right now are to finalize the schedule for our staff work days that start on June 21, get feedback on next year’s calendar from families, and finish hiring the teachers our kids deserve.

I will follow the policy debates of #1 with great interest, but I know where I can be useful, and I’ll wake up tomorrow excited to make another draft of the calendar. I hope you get to work on making your Small Plans, and I will leave you with the secret — or at least the way that worked for me:

Find yourself people who are smarter than you and who disagree with you. Find problems you cannot shut up or stop thinking about. Do what you can’t shut up about with intellect and kindness. Use the privilege and opportunity that we have because we went to this school to make sure that opportunity for others does not require privilege. Run into the chasm.

Be curious, be humble, be useful.

Thank you.

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sarcastichalstead · 5 years ago

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The Chicago Files

A Jay Halstead Storyline

Gif credit to @justmefawning

Chapter 1

"Hey, Trudy" You greeted the Sargent, handing her, her favorite sub from Marcos. She smiled, before hiding it behind a sarcastic comment.

"Why is it that I come in so very early in the morning and you're the first person I see?" She took a bite of the sub, spilling small groans. She mumbled a thank you between her bites.

"because I'm amazing, you love seeing me every morning," She shooed you away, buzzing you upstairs. As you grabbed on to the door, your phone started buzzing.

HANK

going to be coming in late, some last-minute problems. We have a case sitting on my desk. Prep the team.

You unlocked his office, grabbing the files that were on his desk. You often questioned why Hank decided to give you a spare key to his office but then again this wouldn't happen.

You started to pin them against the board as you read up on what happened. Two victims found the third one kidnapped. Victims were both 18 found beaten and bruised.

Once the board was set, you started cleaning up the place up for everyone, cleaned up the coffee machine and set a new batch to be ready, turned on all the computers, grabbed all the trash before throwing it out.

Turning to Ruzek's desk, you giggled when you saw the files splurged all across his desk with a now cold coffee mug sitting in the corner. Burgess came into you placing the mug onto the sink.

"Hey you're here early," you told her as she placed her bag onto her desk.

"My neighbors' dog woke me up so I decided to come in earlier to keep me from killing someone," She joked. Both of you started chatting as you finished up the place, "are you cleaning up?" You nodded.

"It's no big deal, you guys do the hard work of catching the baddies so let me do this part," With time to kill, you started studying a little, while the team slowly shuffled inside.

Jay sat down at your desk interrupting your study. "Hey baby scout, we missed you at Molly's last night," You hit him on the leg from the ridiculous nickname making him laugh. The team always found you as a goody-two-shoes and it didn't help you were the youngest of them all.

"I decided to stay in to study, with finals coming up and all around stressed," Jay gave you that to well-known smile which only made you smile.

"Don't overstress yourself, that's what kills you," He gave you a small nudge before walking away to talk to Uptown. Ruzek had finally come in allowing you to start with the case.

"Hey guys so Hank got tied up but he asked me to fill you guys in on the case," You explained the case to everyone with Al chiming in every once in a while, since he was also there when Hank got the case. "Both girls were beaten senseless but M.E said C.O.D was slice to the throat,"

"The third was kidnapped as of 14 hours ago and if he sticks to plan we have 34 hours before she's found dead," Al added.

"Now there was one witness to her kidnapping a little boy named J.T Dudley he was the one who called the police," As you finished telling everyone, Hank came in.

"Everyone caught up?" Everyone nodded.

"Perfect," Hank started, " Halstead and Uptown go talk to the missing girl's families, I want to know what links these girls together. Ruzek and Al go to the coroner to see if we're missing anything and Burgess and Atwater can interview the little boy" Voight turned to Antonio. "Talk to your CI's see if any of them know anything." Everyone left for their assign duties before Hank called on you to go to his office.

You walked inside leaning your weight against his end table, waiting for him to come in. He came in closing the door behind him.

"How are your classes?"

"They're good, I'm just finishing up with finals," You've known Hank since you were 16, he helped you out in school when you're parents weren't exactly there. When you told him that you were going to be in the police academy after you got your degree his whole face lit up, ever since then, he assigned you to help out with the team so you could 'practice'.

"I have a guy who's gonna help you in the academy after you graduate," You shook your head declining the offer. You wanted to pass because you could, not because it was a handy. "I'm not taking no as an answer, you've been an asset to this team you're worth more than you think,"

"Thank you, Hank." You hugged him, before walking back out to man the office, while everyone was gone.

-----------

Back home you tried to study for your finals but nothing stuck in your head, everything you read was quickly forgotten and replaced with the images of the young girls. Giving up on the losing battle, you grabbed your keys heading to Molly's.

When you got to the bar, you greeted Gabby as you sat at the bar. "Tough day?" She gave you your usual as she cleaned a glass.

"Kinda," You muttered sipping your drink. Jay came up to you sitting down at the chair next to you as he ordered another beer.

"Now this must be a miracle, our girl came out," He teased. You made a quick glimpse at him, before greeting him. He frowned when you didn't give back a sarcastic comment. "what's happening," His concern made you smile but you reassured him that everything was fine.

"taking your advice to not overstress myself," You sipped your drink, feeling the alcohol sting your throat. "Hey I have a question, the little boy did he say anything about the man who took the girl?" Jay drank his beer, remembering what Burgess told Voight.

"He said it was a short guy but he was wearing a mask but he says he might be white," Jay looked at the entrance as Upton came in, greeting everyone. He got up placing his hand on your shoulder giving it a small squeeze "If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm right here. Always."

He grabbed the beer that Gabby brought, giving your shoulder one more squeeze before leaving for Upton. He greeted her with a hug before handing her the beer.

#chicago pd #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago story #The Chicago Files

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chitowntutorin · 1 month ago

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lonelypond · 4 years ago

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A Coffeeshop Christmas Carol, Ch. 3

Love Live, NicoMaki, 2.6K, 3/?

Summary: We check in with our cast for a breakfast update.

Maki refused to schedule anything before 11 a.m. And now that she wasn't taking pre med cattle call chem and bio classes and was instead the resident composer people had to make an appointment to work with, that was usually fine. Her mother, however, had always been a morning person. Which is why Maki's phone was buzzing, interrupting a weird dream about Muppets and Nico and turnips. And roast beef. Maki needed breakfast and coffee before dealing with her mother, but ignoring calls always made things worse. Maki grabbed her phone, refusing to raise her face off her pillow.

"Good morning." Irritatingly brisk.

Maki grunted.

"Did I wake you?"

"What do you need Mama?"

"Your father wants to send the plane to pick you up for Thanksgiving."

Maki sat up, panicking. She was not ready to go home and…"No."

"We always have holidays together, Maki. And last year, you…"

"That doesn't matter.." Maki didn't want to talk about last year. Or this year. Last year, she'd disappeared into New York City for the entirety of the holiday season, spending every night at a concert or a play, refusing all of her parent's invitations, not wanting to discuss her decision to drop out of med school. She still didn't want to discuss it. There had been no signal yet that her father would talk about anything else.

Tudor didn't shut down on Thanksgiving. Most of the students actually stayed, many prepping for the Christmas pageant that Nico….Nico! Maki remembered a detail from her conversations with Nico that might save her.

"I have to stay. They need me to prep for the annual Christmas pageant. And the director hosts a Friendsgiving for students who don't go home…" Maki inhaled, feeling her chest fill with a mostly air, minor confidence mix, "I'm going to help."

Her mother didn't hide the disappointment even as she tried to be encouraging about Maki voluntarily taking part in a social activity. "That sounds...kind. Can we help?"

"No, Mama. I'm sure Nico has everything planned. She's been doing this for years."

"Nico?"

"The Christmas Pageant director. She teaches drama."

"Ah." Another pause, "How are Rin and Hanayo. We miss them too."

"They're fine. I saw them last night. My boss had a jam session. Rin loves a chance to play her maracas."

Maki's mother laughed, "I was always surprised when she didn't shatter them. An energetic performer."

"I'm always surprised that she has so much energy after coaching."

"She's at a different school, right? And Hanayo works with you."

"She heads the IT department so I don't see her."

And then her mom went into closing the deal mode. "When you come back for the holidays, bring Rin and Hanayo with you. The jet has enough seats. And i"m sure their families miss them."

And Rin would love flying in the Nishikino jet. But Maki had no plans to make a holiday stopover in Chicago. As she yawned, she decided that that was not an argument she would have with her mother today. So she punted.

"Okay."

"Good. Text me the details when you know them."

"Goodbye, Mama. I have things to do."

"Keep in touch…"

And Maki ended the call before her mother said anything else and flopped back into her pillows. If she slipped back into sleep, the conversation might fade, like a dream.

###

A bright morning, an amazing night last night with new friends, and now, enough time to stop for coffee and casual conversation on a bright, crisp, sunny morning, warm for November but still chilly enough for Nico's cashmere stole over sweater, beret, skirt, tights, and kicky shearling cuffed boots.

The coffeeshop was bustling with students and faculties, Nozomi off in the back somewhere getting the morning bread delivery from the Bread and Brew. Now, thanks to a chat with Honoka last night, Nico had a better appreciation for the foundational component of her favorite lunch sandwiches. So still a little high on her public performance, Nico ordered her usual morning coffee and half a French Toast order. While the barista poured her coffee, Nico looked for a seat. She spotted a bright blonde ponytail and recognized another new friend, Eli Ayase, the choreographer. As Nico approached the table, the dancer groaned, and dropped her head into her hands.

"Tell Nico what's worrying you." Nico slid into the seat next to Eli, "Nico has solutions."

Eli turned her head, blinking, "Get Nishikino to let me use Tchaikovsky."

"Eil, Eli, Nico talked about this. Maki has a point. And Nico's A Christmas Carol adaptation is modernized so it makes sense to have an updated Nutcracker as well."

Eli flipped the pages in an appointment book. Nico was surprised by the pencil on paper approach to something that could be digitally streamlined. "I don't have the time to supervise my student's choreography and ensure it's at an appropriate level for a public performance."

"These are senior students, right? Your best students."

Eli's nod was reluctant.

"Have some faith in them."

"But this is my first year, what if…"

Nico shook her head, "This is a learning environment. People will see them at whatever level they are and assess accordingly." Nico closed Eli's planner, "Nico has seen dance performances in the past. Tudor has a high quality bar for students."

"That's why I took the job." Eli admitted, grudgingly, "But I'm responsible…"

"No. You're responsible for grading their efforts, not making their efforts for them."

Eli was surprised by Nico's fierceness.

"Are your actors' performances not reflections of you?"

"Of course. Casting is a Nico strength, but then, then…" Nico hummed, "you have to step back and let them grow themselves. Give them too much advice, or put too much of your own experience on to them," Nico hesitated, slumping, "and you could discourage them without even knowing it."

"How's my favorite customer today? Do you need more hot water?" Nozomi's voice boomed. "And here's your breakfast, Nico. Usually you just get coffee."

Nico was chewing a bite before the plate had settled on the table. "Nico had a busy night."

"Ooohh." Nozomi slid into a seat, "With the hot redhead you stole from me?"

"Nico didn't steal anyone. And no. Nico was talking about performing. A jam session with Umi and Maki."

"Oh, at the Bread and Brew. Honoka was talking about that this morning...sounds like a gay old time."

Eli was glancing back and forth between Nico and Nozomi, a slight blush on her face while her brows were lowered in confusion.

"You explain." Nico scarfed down her breakfast.

"Professor Sonoda runs a jazz speakeasy in the basement of the local bakery we buy bread from."

"That seems…" Eli frowned, remembering the never a hem out of place, always seven minutes early Umi Sonoda she'd see around campus. "Out of character."

Nico nearly snorted out a chunk of French Toast. "You should hear her sing "Corcovado". It could convince anyone to sweep her off to Brazil."

"Really." Nozomi sat forward, staring into space, a dreamy smile on her face, "I'm gonna have to twist Honoka's arm for an invitation."

"Tell her Nico sent you." Nico finished her coffee, chest puffed out proudly. "My song got me on the guest list. Nozomi, I'll see you later. And Eli, if you want to talk about your students, Nico's door is always open."

Eli shrugged, still watching Nozomi stare into space. After a few moments, Nozomi shook herself out of a daydream, "Let me get you that hot water."

Lips tight in a frown, Eli gathered up her planner, repacking her bag, "I have to get back to campus."

"Stop by after classes."

"Too much to do." Eli said matter-of-factly, "I really don't have time for new habits."

And with a brief wave, Eli left.

###

Umi appreciated her morning routine. Honoka would be coming back from a night at the bakery, her morning deliveries done. There would be fresh bread, fruit, a protein, and tea waiting for Umi after her wake up workout. If Honoka weren't too tired, she'd tell Umi about her night. But when Kotori was back home, everything was in a disarray. Honoka would turn the driving over to an employee, there would be quicker breakfasts because getting up and getting moving was harder with Kotori there, smiling, and nuzzling closer. Umi had managed to get them all around the breakfast table before 9 a.m. She was due at the college for a meeting at 10. Which left Kotori only 15 minutes to attempt to upend her winter plans.

"Umi, you need to come to New York. It's so pretty, decorated, all the lights, all the music, you'll love it." Lashes fluttered irresistibly over deep honey eyes.

"I have responsibilities."

"You said Maki was going to conduct the Pageant Ensemble." Honoka brought over a tray of chocolate croissants. "Try these. One of my new work-study students made them."

"Ooohh…" Kotori bit into the fluffy, buttery crust. "Nozomi would probably like to add these to the coffeeshop menu."

"Excellent suggestion, Kotori. Now if you'll excuse me..." Umi put a croissant neatly in her snack bento.

"No." Umi giggled, poking her croissant at Umi's mouth until Umi took a bite. Then Kotori leaned in closer, "Umi…" Kotori dragged out her name and Umi groaned, "pleeeeeaaaaasse, pretty please come to New York for the holidays. I want to show you off. I made you this blue and gold wrap, you'll look like a present."

Umi shifted, uncomfortable at the knowing gleam in Kotori's eye. She put another croissant in her bento, to have something to do.

Honoka closed the bento, adding it to Umi's bag, along with the morning coffee thermos, "It'll be fun, Umi. Kotori has a friend with a cabaret. We can have a Christmas show."

"I have a Christmas show right here."

"Which you're not really involved with this year…" Honoka kept pushing.

"And you said Nico's an amazing director."

"But Maki's never done anything like this. And there's already been some trouble with Ms. Ayase." Umi wondered how Nico was going to balance those personalities. But she'd always been very successful with the young actors she'd taught. Obviously, Nico had a touch for diplomacy.

"Which you said Nico handled." Honoka echoed her thought. Honoka paid too much attention to inconvenient things.

Umi was five minutes past her must leave the house by to be 35 minutes early time. She slid her bag over her shoulder as sh stood. "I will consider it, Kotori."

"We're going to New York!" Honoka cheered, then bit into another croissant, "I'm going to give Kasumi more hours."

"Do not overwork students, Honoka."

"Do not overwork Umi, Umi." Honoka wagged a finger, face contorted into Honoka's version of serious, blue eyes teasing.

Umi giggled. "Meet me for lunch in the cafeteria, Kotori?"

"Of course." Kotori stood, to kiss Umi on the cheek, "I wouldn't miss it."

###

Kasumi was awfully cute when she yawned, Shizuku thought, taking a momentary pause from drilling screws into two by fours. But should she look that tired?

Kasumi saw her and waved, vaulting up onto the stage with more energy than Shizuku expected, "Hey, Shizuko, Kasumin brought you a fresh from the oven breakfast treat."

"Oh, did you have to work?"

Kasumi nodded, handing Shizuku a croissant and biting into one of her own.

"You're late, Kasumi!" Professor Yazawa called from where she was looking over a blueprint, "And did you bring treats for everyone?"

"Of course, Kasumin did," Kasumi twirled over to where Nico had set up a table.

"Take it to the coffeepot." Nico pointed offstage, where a temporary food services table had been set up.

"Yea, ma'am." Kasumi saluted, Nico smiled.

"Five minute break. Everybody's slow this morning."

Mumbles of "sorry Professor" accompanied the rush for sugar and caffeine. Kasumi returned to sit down next to Shizuku.

"Tasty." Shizuku petted Kasumi on the head, "Good job."

"Hey, crumbs!" Kasumi scrambled fingers through her hair.

"Sorry."

Kasumi yawned again, "'s'okay."

"Did you get any sleep?"

"I'll sleep after this. No other classes today."

"Do you want to meet for dinner? Maybe prepare for the Christmas Carol auditions?"

"Kasumin could sing...stop by after your class, you have one this afternoon, right?"

"French drama. We're studying Moliere."

"Sounds trez dull."

"It's actually fascinating to see how working in the theatre affected both Moliere's and William Shakespeare's writing. They were both extremely influential playwrights and cultural touchstones."

"Very Shizuko." Kasumi yawned, stretched, and stood, "If I don't keep moving, I'll fall asleep. What are we working on?"

"Platforms."

Kasumi sighed, "Hand me a drill."

Shizuku did as requested, only letting herself enjoy a minor thrill when the sides of their hands brushed. Yes, it was ridiculous, these tiny...crumbs of moments, but Kasumi was too cute to ignore and too oblivious to confess to. So Shizuku continued to challenge and compliment, hoping for a breakthrough as they worked together.

###

At the piano, empty score sheet ready for pencil and notes, Maki rifled through Nico's A Christmas Carol script. She really wasn't in the mood to read it through. At least A Christmas Carol was mostly about ghosts and greed. She could save working on the touchy feely Christmasy merry muck of the Fred scenes until she absolutely had to. Nico had tagged the songs so Maki pulled out a page of lyrics near the beginning. The Marley-Scrooge duet. She could work with that. Maybe make it a little gay, Maki chuckled to herself, remembering her conversation with Nico yesterday. Maki glanced at the cast of characters for basic descriptions. In modernizing, Nico had made Scrooge and Marley partners in a music label. So any music could be worked into the plot naturally. Nico's scribbled note said both Scrooge and Marley had individual gifts they'd put aside for differing personal reasons.

Maki kept thinking about last night, and playing for Nico. She couldn't help wondering what Nico's performance had been like from the audience. The audience had been caught up in Nico's charm while Maki had been so occupied trying to keep up on a song she wasn't that familiar with, she hadn't been able to spare any focus for watching Nico's performance. But still, she'd been hearing Nico's voice in her head all night. It was bright and shrill and yet somehow soft, a series of flirty confident demands that had had the audience oohing, a nicely turned twist of wry humor with some of the lyrics...Maki was sorry not to have been in some other seat, fully absorbed in the performance. Instead, she'd been laying down a basic 101 rhythm, not even able to showcase her own potential mastery of the selection. But Maki had thrown Nico into an impromptu situation instead of a collaborative one and now almost regretted the impulse that had made her break into Nico's conversation with Kotori and Umi. They could have planned something together if Maki had put any thought into it, a true duet instead of a Nico solo spotlight that Hanayo had spent an hour swooning over. Maki hadn't had anything to contribute to the conversation except, yes, Nico had been pretty easy to play for.

Back to this duet. How would Nico sing this? Maki closed her eyes and let her vague memories of Nico's performance be replaced by imagining Nico mouthing the words in front of her, letting a new theme take over from the Ellington. There could be, should be give and take, Maki hummed something in a lower register, closer to her own, a Scrooge for Marley to bounce warnings of suffering off of. Her fingers found the piano keys and she added the textures to the simple melody that had started this. What would Nico think?

A/N: Lunar New Year upcoming. I'm taking a break from theatre to do some writing so if there's an AU you want an update for, let me know.

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #ShizuKasu #Nakasu Kasumi #osaka shizuku #NozoEli #Tojo Nozomi #Ayase Eli #A Coffeeshop Christmas Carol #Holiday #A Christmas Carol #kotohonoumi #Minami Kotori #Kosaka Honoka #sonoda umi #fluff #holiday fluff #etc

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