Wednesday, June 25, 2008

What's Next?

With school ending yesterday, everyone wants to know what my next step is, and the kids are no different. As the school day came to a close yesterday, one of the kids - one of my favorites - asked me the question.

"I don't know," I told him.

"What you mean, you don't know?" he asked. He's 6'3", 300 pounds, and everyone who meets him talks about him like he's a Gentle Giant. He wouldn't hurt anybody. His voice is soft and his reasoning is solid, like a grandfather's almost, except he acts and has the same mentality as a child. It's pretty spectacular, actually.

"I don't know," I said again.

"Well, you gotta have a plan. That's what you tell me."

"True. I have some plans."

"Well?"

"Well, I think of it like an adventure. You have to be prepared for an adventure, so I'm getting prepared."

"You sound like you're taking a hike in some woods. Not getting a job."

"Good point."

"So?"

"So, I am sending out resumes - do you know what those are?"

"Ray-zoo-may? Nope."

"Okay, well, it's a piece of paper that tells all about your experience and jobs you've done, so people who might want to hire you can see what you've done."

"You put EVERYTHING you done on one piece of paper? No wonder you can't get a job."

"Okay, umm, it's not quite like that. But I am sending out those pieces of paper to people and I am meeting with people to talk to them about working for them."

"You just talking to them?"

"Sort of."

"You not even talking to them?"

"Some of them."

"So you trying to get a job by just sending out a piece of paper without talking to nobody?"

"It's a little more complicated than that."

"I sure hope so. Otherwise, you not gonna end up with any job."

"True."

"So, why don't you just stay here?"

This is the complicated part of the discussion. Over the past few weeks, as kids have found out that I won't be teaching at their school next year, the questions have begun and it's hard to talk to kids about budget cuts. You don't want them to get any sense of uncertainty. They deal with enough bullshit that in my role, I try to keep things as consistent and stable for them as possible. Not that I would be a great loss to them, but I don't really think it's a good plan to get involved in a discussion about unions, seniority, and deficits.

"Long story," is what I tell him and everyone. "But that's okay."

"I didn't say it WASN'T," he says. Others don't say this. As quickly, anyway.

"Right."

"So what you want to do?"

"I don't know really."

"You don't know much."

"You're telling me."

"I did."

"Right."

"If I could choose, I'd keep you around."

"Thanks."

"Yeah, well, it's not up to me."

"I know, but that was nice of you to say."

"It's just because I think you're too young to retire. You too young to go play Bingo."

"Hmm. So what do you think I should do?"

"I don't know! You spose to know."

"Right."

He sits for a minute. "How bout a doctor?"

"Nah."

"Lawyer?"

"Nah."

He thinks for another minute. "I got it! You used to make cookies. I hear they was pretty good. Now I wouldn't KNOW because you never baked those for us. Some kids said it was cause you don't eat junk food, but that's a crock because I saw you sneaking Hershey's lots of times."

I look up.

"You did!"

"Fair enough."

"Why don't you bake us cookies? You can sell them in the cafeteria because the food they sell is disgusting. They whacked out down there. You could bake us cookies and sell us them."

"Interesting idea."

"Sell them for fifty cents, except me. I get to pay a discount cause I gave you the idea, but you could make a killing everyday. What you think? Bake cookies for a living?"

I think about it for a minute. "That might be fun."

"It ain't spose to be FUN. It's spose to be WORK." He shakes his head. "Man, you got the wrong attitude about this whole thing! Plus you just sendin ray-zoos-whatevers to people you don't even TALK to. And now you tell me you hoping to get a FUN job? You think work is suppose to be fun?! No. Even I know that! You think teaching been FUN?"

And it hit me then, as I looked around the room and back at him, that it had been fun.

"It has been," I tell him. "It has been."