My Girls

Yesterday was kind of rough.

I was at my negative school, and it was Monday. My 4th period--always an immature group--somehow decided that getting tempera paint all over the damned walls while throwing stuff away was a good idea. My boss--the one person out of every admin I've ever worked for who hates me--chose this time to walk into my room.

Why does she never see the good stuff?

My attitude at this point was, "FUCK. IT." I mean, I'm already out of there anyway, so who cares, right?

I care. Call it pride, or caring about the good students, whatever you want.

Anyway, I was feeling pretty shitty come lunch time. My afternoon group of "teenies" came in for music, which made me feel marginally better. Then I walked across the way and talked to the school's counselor, who has been wonderfully supportive of me in the past. As we were chatting, I saw three of my girls who had asked to come to my room at lunch walk up the ramp to my classroom. I figured they'd find the paint and get themselves started.

After a couple more minutes, I walked back to my room, feeling a little calmer. As I walked in, I found those three dear, marvelous girls cleaning my classroom.

The huge mess of paint pallettes in the sink? Washed. The tables with the paint dripped on them? Wiped down. One girl was dragging a garbage can around behind her and picking up Q-tips (we were still doing Pointillism) off the floor.

I almost cried. All I could do was say, "Ladies...you are marvelous. I promise you can come in on Wednesday and paint. No messes to clean." They just smiled.

These are the kids that keep me going in every day.