“What’s up, little man?”
Theo high-fives him, melting my heart just a little bit as he does.
He gives out more high-fives, and gestures for the boys and girls to shh and listen to their teacher, which they reluctantly do.
And I get it.
I’d rather play with Theo too.
Then, he nods, falling into step behind us like he always does, eyes alert but relaxed.
The gym is already chaos when we arrive.
Grades K through 4 are packed into the space, balls bouncing, shrieks echoing off the walls, kids darting around like over-sugared fireflies.
Pure, joyful bedlam.
But I love it.
This is why I became a teacher.
The laughter.The mess.The way it all somehow still works.
I direct my students to their section of the court and keep an eye on the jump rope crew while chatting with Ms.Reyes, who’s corralling dodgeballs in the corner.
Suddenly, the fire alarm goes off.
It’s loud, deafening.
My pulse is racing.
The children scream, the teachers scramble to get the kids lined up.
I’m lucky.I have Mrs.Stuyvesant to help with recess today, and she blows her whistle and claps her hands, telling the children to find their emergency buddy and get in line..
Lily Butler trips and falls, and I help her to her feet, making sure she has her buddy’s hand.
“Don’t cry, Lily.It will be okay,” I reassure her.
The alarm is still blaring, and the lights are now out.
Precious seconds pass in a blur of noise and motion—and somewhere in the whirlwind, I lose sight of Theo.
Or maybe he loses me.
I turn to scan the edges of the room.
Nothing.
But I’m not worried about me.Not now.Not really.
The emergency lights are flashing, and I hear fire engines coming closer.
I don’t know if there’s a real fire or not at this point, but it doesn’t matter.
The rules are the same.
Line up and get everyone out safely.
