How I Spent My Morning

Before the spring semester wrapped up I made a list of the things I would do with my new free time: clean my apartment, finish David Copperfield, practice the violin, write blog posts. Now that the semester is over I find that I typically use my four hours of free time every morning to sleep until10 and then watch ER for two hours on cable.
I used to love ER, back in the early years before they completely changed their cast and started dropping helicopters on people. I did not remember, however, the frequency with which actors would stand alone in empty rooms, staring at the floor, full of angst, delivering monologues about the costliness of their mistakes.

Scene- the Kitchen at Andrew’s Daycare. Andrew is standing against the wall, arms folded across his chest, looking down-- the weight of the world on his shoulders. The assistant director Jason walks in.

Jason: Hey, I was looking for you; we’re over ratio outside and I’ve got two third graders who are late to see the nurse for their ADHD meds.

Andrew: Man, I love it here.

Jason (rolling eyes): You do a good job Andrew; you belong here.

Andrew (looking up, a wry expression on his face): Do I? DO I?? You know, I was busy, I was in a rush, and I see Ryan standing next to a little girl who was crying, holding a shovel you know, and I thought I knew…. (chokes a sob)… I thought I knew what was happening. And Ryan’s screaming his head off, “I didn’t do it, she hit me, it was an accident,” and I’ve heard it all before, so I’m not listening. I didn’t listen. And I put him in time out.

Jason: For how long?

Andrew: Oh Christ, for ten minutes. And then, you know, then Ellie comes up to me later, after he’s been sitting there, and says, “Mr. Everton, Stephanie hit Ryan.” Turns out she hit him in the face with a plastic shovel, and when he took the shovel out of her hand she fell down and started crying. I tried to make it up to the boy, told him I was sorry, but he didn’t care. What kind of teacher does that?

Jason: A young one. Andrew, you’re not perfect, and this job… this job takes a lifetime. Everybody makes mistakes— you aren’t God, and you’ve got a hundred kids out there, you can’t be everywhere. You can’t see everything. You’re just one man, trying to do the right thing, trying to make a difference. And Ryan, he’s only seven. Seven year olds are like golden retrievers, five minutes after timeout is over all they can think about is finding somebody to play catch.

Andrew: Yeah, he might forget. But I won’t. And I have to live with this.
(walks out and heads back to the playground)