It’s Thursday,the day of the meeting with Principal Thomas.
I haven’t seen Elias all week. Well, I’ve seen him in the mornings, and he’s looked exhausted, with huge, dark bags under his eyes. He hasn’t said much on our commute to work. He said he’s been busy with things at his gym, and he’s been getting home after I go to bed.
I’ve seen him when I drop my class off and pick them up. My kids are always so happy when I pick them up. I smile at Elias every time. I’ve gotten a nod in return.
“What’s going on?” I whisper to him on a day he’s looking particularly rough.
“A lot going on,” he mutters, before turning around and walking back into the gym.
But right now, our little WoW group is gathered in the staff lounge, on our turf. We’re inviting Principal Thomas here to speak with us. Everyone is here except for Elias.
“Have you seen Elias?” I ask Georgia.
She shrugs. “I saw him earlier today when I walked past the first floor.”
Lina is nervously pacing the room. “He’s not coming,” she tells us.
I frown. “What do you mean?”
She stops her pacing and looks at me. “What do you mean, what do I mean? Why would he come?”
“Because… he’s been a part of this since the beginning?” I say incredulously. “Because he’s our Lax Bro Captain America? Because Thomas might actually listen to him? Because he has all our notes?”
Lina looks at me, a little concerned, searching my face. “He sent me all the notes already. But why would he come to this meeting when his last day is tomorrow?” she asks me slowly.
My stomach drops. “What?!”
“His gym?” she says, as if she’s reminding me. “It’s doing really well, isn’t it? That’s what he told me on Monday. He’s leaving PS 2 to go and do it full time.”
Buzzing fills my ears.
Lina is still looking at me. “Mia? Are you okay? Did?—”
“What is this?” Principal Thomas stands in the doorway of the staff lounge.
Lina whirls around. She gathers herself in a way that I find myself entirely unable to do after that news.Last day? What?
“Good afternoon, Principal Thomas,” Lina says, her chin up and shoulders back. “We’re here to have an honest conversation about some of the curricular choices in this school.”
Our principal’s face twists in rage. “Is this some sort of coup?” she hisses.
No one answers, because we’re all a bit taken aback. Emmanuel’s face is one of abject horror, one hand placed over his heart.
Lina is unfazed, as if she knows that this is what our principal has been like all along. “This is not a coup. This is a conversation. Please sit,” she says gently, gesturing to a chair.
She doesn’t sit. She crosses her arms and stands in the doorway instead.
“We want to talk to you about the Words of Wonder curriculum you’ve chosen for our school,” Lina begins anyway. “We are a group of veteran educators, veteran to the PS 2 community, who would like to share some concerns about the program. We’ve collected and analyzed some historical data about PS 2’s previous curriculum, and we’ve determined?—”
“Have you all not been teaching Words of Wonder in your classrooms to fidelity?” Thomas asks us.
It’s my turn. “We’ve still followed your directives. We’ve taught the curriculum two or three days a week while continuing some of our own?—”
“So, no,” Thomas scoffs condescendingly. “You haven’t taught the curriculum to fidelity. Anyone else?”
My coworkers murmur their agreement.
“You?” She points at Emmanuel, who shakes his head. “You?” She points to a first grade teacher, Susan. It’s clear she’s doing this because she has no idea what any of our names are.
