One Little Blue Folder

Like the famous words of Toby Keith, "I wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then" I find myself echoing the exact same words, and while he is referring to his cheating girlfriend, I relate it to my shiny new blue folder. It all began with a night from hell where my 2 year old decided to literally take on the Nathan's hot dog eating champ Joey Chesnut at a friendly BBQ hosted by none other than my beautiful wife. She continued with an onslaught of chocolate chip cookies and chips just to stoke the fire. Though I should have been more cautious as her father, I let it go because she was in good spirits and we all know how two year olds can get two hours past their bedtime. As the BBQ came to a close and my daughters were all snug in their beds, I ignorantly believed the night would bring nothing but sweet dreams and uninterrupted sleep. This, however, was not to be. The wake up call came around 1:45 am with Braelyn screaming at the top of her lungs, and when I entered her room I was reminded of scenes from the Exorcist. On her bed there appeared to be what looked like a mutilated opossum followed by the smell of freshly heaved hot dogs. On her pillow was more puke and she stood there looking like the toxic avenger confused and scared. As I cleaned everything up I was reminded of the fact that I had get up in a little over three hours.

The rest of the night went unnoticed and soon I heard my alarm reminding me that it was time to begin the prework warm up. I say prework warm up because with three daughters and a wife it takes time before we can actually get out the door. Despite being really tired, we managed to get ready and out of the house on time. When I got to school I was still tired, but in high spirits as the thought of summer vacation loomed closer and closer. It's a shame I couldn't have relived just the morning over and over again like on Ground Hog's Day because the afternoon is something I never want to relive. It was already known at school that some teachers were going to lose their jobs due to budget cuts but that was just talk and it never sunk in. In fact, I held several conversations with coworkers about being worried I would be riffed, but I was always reassured it could not happen to such a "good guy." A friend of mine who teaches health found out she was being let go the day before and I spent much of after school consoling her and reassuring her all would be fine, but I still did not think for one moment I would take a walk in her shoes. As the bell rang for 6th period I was reflecting upon what was said to me during my prep period, "Watch out for the email that says meeting from the principal!" When I got to my classroom I immediately ran to my desk and checked my emails just to be safe. In what seemed like an eternity I scrolled one by one through each title only to find the words "Meeting" sent by my principal. My heart sank and my stomach turned several knots. I had to keep my composure as I still had fifty five minutes of class time to dedicate to my rowdy and unknowing 8th graders. After many attempts to forget about the email, I could not shake the thought that I might be one of the 250 teachers out of a job.

The bell finally rang and I was on my way to meet my fate like a cow on its way to being slaughtered. I entered the principal's office sat down and heard the worst introductory sentence a man can ever be subject to, "This is one of those meetings you never want to have with a teacher." The words hit me with such power and force that my mind went numb. I don't really know what was said past that because so many things raced through my mind. Anger, frustration, sadness, humiliation, and anxiety took over my body. I didn't know what to say or how to react so I sat there silent and broken trying to fully comprehend the reality of my teaching career. It was over, just like that. In five minutes I had learned my fate and received my shiny new little blue folder that stood out like a swastika on Charles Manson's forehead. I walked down the hallway defeated and to the shock and surprise of my comrades. Nothing they said could erase the emptiness inside me,  but I kept my composure just as I had learned from my father and grandfathers. So here I am writing a blog as a way to release my frustration and agony of the whole situation. I am humbled and honored to have called myself a teacher, and appreciative of the fact that I have been an influential person in so many student's lives. I am scared at what is to be but I know that there is a grander plan in store for me. As I finish out my work week I know that I must look for employment elsewhere. Thankfully my wife is employed and we have some form of income, but it doesn't replace the feelings of guilt and the inability to measure up. I began with much to give and I left with a little blue folder, but I am confident that I will find my new calling and begin a new legacy to be proud of.

Doug Jr