Class is Now in Session

"What have I gotten myself into?"I whispered under my breath as I watched the class come in. There were ten of them, all straight-laced and prissy. Okay, maybe "prissy" isn't exactly the best word to use in this situation, but I don't know what else to call them. Boring? Yeah, that would probably be my second choice.

I sat at my desk at the front of the room and watched them take their seats. They all looked a little scared and suspicious. I suppose they had good reason, though. Wouldn't you be skeptical and even a little nervous if you were going to be taught rock n' roll by a complete stranger, wearing Converse high tops, fishnet stockings, a red and black skirt, and, to top it all of, a black t-shirt that had The Ramones printed across the front in big pink letters? I probably wouldn't, being the way I am, but I'm sure children like these would.

How did I get myself into this position? It's a long story, but since your already here, I'll take my time.

I suppose it started a week after I quit my old job. I used to teach music at an old private school that didn't even know what rock n' roll was. I couldn't take it. I wasn't going to spend the rest of my life teaching Mozart and Beethoven to a bunch of kids who already knew everything about it! So I handed in my resignation and went on a job hunt. After a week of searching around and coming up empty handed, I found exactly what I was looking for while reading the paper one morning. The ad read, "Wanted: an experienced teacher required to teach 8th grade students about rock and roll music. Salary: to be discussed upon appointment. If anyone is interested in this position, please contact Mr. George Kessler at 555-9703."

This was just the position I'd been dreaming of my entire life! My life basically revolves around rock music and I would definitely say I was "experienced" enough to land this job.

I decided to give this Kessler guy a call and see if I could get an interview sometime that week.

"Ah, Ms. Ericson, I would be more than happy to interview you for this position,"Mr. Kessler said on the phone when I asked about an interview.
"Oh, thanks so much, Mr. Kessler," I said in my most polite voice. I never was a fan of talking to complete strangers on the phone. "Is there anything in particular you would like me to bring or anything like that?"
"Just bring yourself, oh, and your resume', of course,"Mr. Kessler said cheerfully. I thought that he sounded a little too happy about this interview.

My interview was scheduled for Wednesday. Now all I had to worry about was what I was going to wear. I know it sounds weird. You would usually only expect girly-girls to pick out an outfit on Saturday when you wouldn't have to wear it for another four days. But I wanted to impress this guy. I didn't want to wear anything that would scare him off or intimidate him, although those characteristics can come in quite handy at times. I know, I've used them many times in my life.

I was rooting through my closet, trying to find something suitable to wear to an interview at a private school, when I came across the perfect outfit. I'd only worn it once, to a funeral. It was a nice, dignified looking pant suit. It was all black and it had nice feel to it. It seemed like something this Kessler guy would love.
"I hope this still fits,"I said as I took off my old, beat up jeans and slipped the black pants on. It surprised me how well they fit. I tried on the top next and was equally surprised at how well it fit. I couldn't tell if it's a good or bad thing that I can still fit into clothes that I hadn't worn in years.

I began rooting through my closet again after I'd laid my clothes on my bed, ready for Wednesday. This time I was looking for a pair of black shoes to go with my outfit. I have tons of black shoes, but I don't think a lot of them would be suitable for an interview at a private school. I finally decided on a nice pair of black high heels. They weren't too outrageous, like most of my shoes, but they weren't really high-class or anything either. They were pretty much perfect for my situation.
"Okay," I said to myself, "I think I'm ready."

Wednesday rolled around a lot faster than I thought it would, and before I knew what was happening, I was rushing around my house, trying to get myself ready on time. I slipped into my pant suit, pulled on a pair of plain black stockings I'd found the night before, and jumped into my shoes. I had to do my make up next. I usually wear heavy black make up. I'll opt for purple sometimes if I'm feeling especially unique that day. I would actually say that my make up could possibly scare young children. I don't want to scare any children of any shape, size, or age, but it's not to be unexpected. But today, I decided to go with some natural colors. I put on my black eyeliner, did my mascara, added some brownish-tannish eyeshadow, and put a little bit of lipstick on. I would describe it's color as a cross between a light colored skin tone and dirt. I wouldn't call it ugly, but I would definitely call it earthy.

When I was all put together and organized, I grabbed my resume', jumped in my black Jaguar(I'd always wanted one, so I started saving up for it when I was ten,) and drove off in the direction of St. Luke's. Yeah, that's the name of the school. I'm not exactly sure if it's a religious school, but the name sure makes it sound like it is. Mr. Kessler didn't bother to tell me on the phone.

I arrived ten minutes early for my interview. I honestly couldn't believe that I'd managed it. I was usually almost always a few minutes late. Oh well, better for my first impression, I guess.

The school was fuckin' HUGE! It looked more like a monument than a school. The parking lot alone was the size of two football fields. The school grounds were so big, I can't even compare them to anything. The school itself was about one of the biggest buildings I'd ever seen. Bigger than an Ivy League college. "Oh crap. If I get this job, how am I ever going to remember where everything is?" I thought to myself.

I walked up to the front gates leading into the grounds. An elderly woman was already there, and she seemed to be waiting for me.

"Ms. Carolyn Ericson?" the woman asked in a kind voice.
"Yes, that's me," I replied.
"Oh good, George has been expecting you," the woman said. "I'm Mrs. Newton,"she added. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Newton," I said shaking her outstretched hand.
"Follow me," Mrs. Newton said, gesturing for me to follow her through the school grounds.

I was even more impressed by the landscaping as I followed Mrs. Newton up the stone path through the grounds, leading up to two large wooden doors. There was a fountain the size of a large pond in the center of the lawn. Giant trees, flower beds, and lawn sculptures were scattered all around. To be honest, I felt very small, being surrounded by all these large pieces of nature.

When we finally reached the front doors, Mrs. Newton pushed them open and led me through the entrance hall. It was filled with portraits of people who I believed were the deceased headmasters and headmistresses. There were also lots of marble sculptures around the perimeter of the hall. A few doors occupied some of the spaces that weren't already taken up by a large portrait or sculpture. In the dead center of the room was a huge staircase made out of what I think was marble. It's going to sound a bit far-fetched, but this place literally reminded me of that wizarding school, Hogwarts, from those Harry Potter books. And I should know. I used to be a Harry Potter geek when I was about thirteen. I still have all of the books that have been released in my bookshelf in the corner of my bedroom.

Mrs. Newton led me up the marble staircase and turned right. She took me over to an oak door that had, "George Kessler, Headmaster," written on a shiny brass plaque. Mrs. Newton knocked twice and when a voice answered, "Come in," she opened the door and led me into the office.

It was beautiful. Mr. Kessler's office was really quite astounding. It wasn't huge, but it made up for lack of size with what it was furnished with. There was potted plant in every corner but one, which was occupied by a large, mahogany bookshelf that was stocked with more books about Lord knows what, than I own in my entire house. And that's a lot, since I spend a lot of my time in bookstores and libraries.

In the center of the room was a big desk, with two deep red chairs seated in front of it. The desk was littered with papers, pens, pencils, and a few other office supplies. "Well, at least I can see that this guy isn't someone who looks hard to please," I thought to myself. It's pretty easy to tell what a person is like before you meet them by looking at things like their bedroom, their car, and for crazy people, their garbage, and, in this case, their desk.

"Ah, you must be Ms. Carolyon Ericson," Mr. Kessler said, rising from his desk and almost knocking his coffee mug over in the process. Thank God it was empty. I stifled a giggle and shook his outstretched hand. Before Mrs. Newton left the room, I saw her roll her eyes at Mr. Kessler. "He must do that a lot," I thought. Mr. Kessler gestured for me to sit down in one of the chairs facing his desk and I did. The chair was actually quite comfy, something that I would really like for my living room, but something I could probably never afford.

"Well now, I believe I spoke to you on the phone about your interest in teaching the 8th graders about rock music?" Mr. Kessler said, more probably to remind himself than me.
"Yes, sir. I would definitely say that's why I'm here," I replied, trying to stifle my excitement. "Excellent," he replied, "Oh, and did you remember to bring your resume' with you?"
"Yes, Mr. Kessler, its right here," I said, handing it to him. Things seemed to be going quite well so far.
"This is quite impressive, Ms. Ericson," Kessler said after a few moments.
"You really think so?" I asked. I never thought my resume' could ever be described as impressive.
"Oh yes, this is the best one I've seen so far from the people who have been applying for your position," he replied, "It says that you've had some experience teaching music to children, that you're in a rock band and you've released two albums so far, and that you have can play the piano, bass guitar, electric guitar, and the drums. It also says that you're good friends with the members of Green Day and U2, and that you and Paul McCartney are quite friendly with each other."
"Well, what can I say? I got backstage passes to all these people's concerts and we really seemed to get along," I replied. And no, I wasn't lying when I said that I was friends with Green Day, U2, and Paul McCartney. It's cool to have an uncle who works in the music industry.
"Mr. Kessler, I have one question," I said after a second.
"And what would it be?" he replied.
"Why exactly are you looking for someone to teach the 8th graders about rock?" I asked. The question had been making me wonder for a while.
Mr. Kessler folded his hands on top of his desk and looked at me.
"St. Luke's is known for giving students an excellent knowledge of classical music. But I want to give the children something more. I want to show them that music isn't all about beauty and elegance. I want to show them that it can be dangerous and have a message at the same time," he told me. I'm not gonna lie, I was impressed. I must say, that was a pretty ballsy thing to do. Deciding to teach the 8th graders about rock could jeopardize or even ruin the school's musical reputation.
"Wow," I said, "That's a pretty admirable idea, Mr. Kessler."
"I'm glad that you think so, Ms. Ericson," he replied with a smile and a nod, "I just want the children to have a well-rounded musical repertoire."
"And you're willing to jeopardize the school's reputation?"I asked.
"I'm willing to do anything in my power to help our students get a head start in life."
"Mr. Kessler, I would love to help you do that," I told him.
He smiled at me and said, "Excellent."

The rest of the interview got even better. Kessler just spent the next half hour asking me questions. Some were a bit unusual, but most of them dealt with how long I've been playing music, why I want to teach rock music at St. Luke's, and what would my lesson plan include for the year. He loved all my answers. By the time the interview was over, I felt like I had the job in the bag.
"Thank you very much for coming in for this interview, Ms. Ericson," Mr. Kessler told me at the end of my interview, "I will call you sometime next week and inform on whether or not you've got the job. But just to tide you over, I must say that you have the best chance out of everyone I've interviewed so far. I just have a few more people to talk to and then I'll get back to you." He stood up from his chair(almost knocking his coffee mug over again) and held out his hand for me to shake.
"No, thank you, Mr. Kessler," I replied, standing up and shaking his hand, " I really hope I get this job."

I was waiting in suspense for the rest of the week and most of the next. I was almost 100% sure I'd gotten the job but there was always this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that kept telling me that there might be someone out there who had a better chance than I did. I generally try to ignore this voice, but sometimes it can really get to me and make me wonder.

I finally got a call from Mr. Kessler. He called on Thursday(of the next week, not the day after the interview) around noon. He informed me that he had interviewed three other people and none of them were as well suited for the job as I was. He then told me that he would really appreciate it if I agreed to become a part of the St. Luke family. I nearly fell off the stool I was sitting in, I was so happy.
"Oh my God, thank you SO much Mr. Kessler! I promise you that you won't be disappointed!" I nearly screamed into the receiver.
"Oh I'm so happy to hear that, Ms. Ericson! Now, if you wouldn't mind coming back to the school next week so that we can show you where everything is and inform you of our policies and regulations, then we can discuss your salary." Kessler asked me.
"No problem, Mr. Kessler. I'm free all next week," I replied, trying to control myself.
"Great! Then is Tuesday around noon okay?" Mr. Kessler asked me.
"That's fine for me," I told him.
"Excellent! I look forward to seeing you next Tuesday! Have a nice day, Ms. Ericson," he said.
"You too, Mr. Kessler," I replied, hanging up the phone. I couldn't hold it in anymore. I jumped on my couch and did a BIG happy dance. This job was going to be the best yet.

Tuesday's tour went well. Mr. Kessler showed me where everything was. The school wasn't as hard to navigate as I thought it would be. We then discussed my salary. I would be making about $6,000 every other week. That was more then I'd ever been paid in my entire life and I must say that I was more than happy with my pay. Before I left, Mr. Kessler told me that I was to start teaching on Monday, three weeks from today. I honestly thought that he would've had me start sooner but I wasn't going to argue with him. I didn't want to annoy him before I'd even met the kids.

The three weeks went by so fast. Before I knew it I was pulling up in the faculty parking lot and winding my way through the corridors to my classroom. It was a pretty good sized classroom. There were ten desks all set up in neat rows. The walls were white and the floor looked like it had been waxed the night before. I tried not to look at the blinding glare coming off of the linoleum floor.

I spent the next half hour putting up posters of Green Day, The Beatles, U2, The Ramones, Nirvana, and a few other good bands, both old and recent. The last thing I did before the bell rang was put out my vast collection of cds. Collecting cds is one of my favorite past times. I had everything from AC/DC to Led Zeppelin. I can't even count them anymore.

Anyway, once I'd set up and decorated the room to my liking, I sat down behind my desk, pulled out my iPod, and started listening to some Ramones songs. They seem to relax me. Don't ask me why, I'm not entirely sure why myself.

Now, I'm going to exit this rather lengthy flashback and return to the current situation. I'm sure you're all bored by now anyway.

Once everyone was in their seat, I turned off my iPod, pulled the headphones out of my ears, and walked in front of my desk. I was a bit nervous. I'm nervous a lot. I think I might have some kind of disorder or something.

Anyway, I took a few moments to look the class over from under my thick curtain of brown hair. My hair always covers at least one side of my face, even if I try to keep it behind my ears or up in a ponytail. There's always one piece that just hangs there without a purpose. My hair was currently hanging over my left eye. I like it hanging in that eye better than the right. Maybe it's 'cause I'm right-handed or something.

When I finished looking over my class, I cleared my throat and began to speak.
"Hey guys. I'm Ms. Ericson," I said as calmly as I could.
"Good morning, Ms. Ericson," the class recited back in unison. These kids are gonna be hard to break, I thought.
"Before I officially start class, does anyone have any questions for me? They can be about anything. Rock music, the people in the pictures on the walls, or even myself," I told them. Maybe this would loosen them up and get them excited.

I waited a couple seconds while the class looked around at the walls. One girl jumped a little when she saw a picture of Angus Young. I tried hard not to laugh. I saw one boy looking my cds up and down. He was in the front row so he had the best view of them. He was the first kid to raise their hand.
"What are all those cds for?" he asked when I pointed to him.
"Good question," I said stepping back and grabbing as many of my cds as I could. It was pretty challenging since I had so many.
"Since this class is all about rock music, I decided to bring in my own personal collection of rock cds. I pretty much have at least one cd by every band that you can think of," I told them, "We're going to be listening to them all year. I'll even teach you guys how to play some of the songs on all my instruments." That seemed to make some of the bored looking ones pay a bit more attention.
"So, any more questions you'd like to ask?" I said.
This time a girl stuck up her hand. She seemed very excited about something.
"Yes?" I said, pointing to her.
"Whose that? In that picture over there. The guy with the black hair," she said pointing to the picture of Green Day that hung next to her desk. Some of the other girls nodded their heads in agreement, like they wanted to know too.

I laughed a little and walked over to the picture. I was waiting for at least one girl to ask this question.
"His name's Billie Joe Armstrong. He's the lead singer and guitarist for the band Green Day," I told them, "He's actually a very good friend of mine, along with the two other guys in that picture." I pointed to the other two guys in the picture. "The one with the blonde hair is Mike. He plays the bass guitar and sings back-up, and the one with the brown hair is Tre'. He plays the drums. Maybe if I can get in touch with them, they can come in and visit. Maybe they'll even play a little private show for you guys." All the girls started giggling and exchanging awestruck looks. I guess they were looking forward to that. And I know that the guys would love to play for the class. Their sweet like that.
"Now, to get away from hot guys for a second,(the girls giggled some more) does anybody else have a question?" I asked.
A boy way back in the last row put his hand up.
"Do you play any instruments?" he asked.
"As a matter of fact, I DO," I told him. I went around my desk and grabbed my bass. I figured it would be a good instrument to bring on the first day.
"This is my bass guitar. I've been playing it for about fifteen years now. I play it in my friend's band. Maybe they'll come in and talk to you guys and play a little," I told them. "Does anybody want to hear me play something?" I then asked. The class nodded and said yes. I pulled my little portable amp around in front of my desk and plugged in my bass. I then threw the strap over my head and sat down on my desk. I pulled a guitar pick out of my pocket and looked out into the class again.
"Does anybody know of any songs that they'd like me to play?" I asked. I didn't want to seem too selfish to pick one myself on the first day.
I gave the class a moment to think. Nobody seemed to have any in mind. I kind of expected that.
"Would you guys like me to pick one instead?" I asked. They all nodded.
"Okay then. I'm going to play you guys a song called "Holiday." It's by Green Day and it's one of my favorites," I told them.
I started plucking away at the strings. My fingers were flying flawlessly over the neck of my bass. I looked up every now and then to check the class' reaction. They were all looking at me with awestruck faces. I smiled to myself. I thought that these kids would be harder to impress, but apparently that wasn't the case. Oh well, that makes my job easier.

When I finished playing the song, I looked up at the class. They all started clapping and cheering. I couldn't help but smile and take a bow.
"Stupid question but, how did you all like that?" I asked them. Most of the class started talking at once, telling me how good I was and could I teach them to play like that. I laughed a little.
"Okay guys. That's enough praise. I'm glad you liked it," I told them. "I'm going to be playing a lot for you this year. I also play the guitar, piano, and the drums," I said, "And yes, I will teach you to play at least one or two easy songs." The class started whispering excitedly to each other. "Now, before I do anything else, I think that you should all tell me your names so that I'm not confused all day. I'll go up and down the rows. Let's start with you," I said, pointing to the boy in the first row on the left side of the room.
"Charles," he said.
"Okay, next?" I replied.
"Cynthia."
"Gregory."
"Heather."
"James."
"Katherine."
"Vincent."
"Laura."
"Edwin."
"Vera."
"Okay, great. If I call on you or point to you or something and I forget your name, I'm sorry. Just remind me and I'll try harder next time," I told them. "Now, since this is rock class, I think that it would only be fitting if we listen to some real rock music," I said, laying my bass against the wall behind my desk and going over to my stack of cds. I started running my finger down the spines of the cases, looking for the one I wanted. I finally found it somewhere near the bottom. I pulled it out quickly so that the others wouldn't fall over and held it up to show the class.
"This is an album by the band The Beatles," I said, holding up the album "Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. It's one of my favorite albums."

I walked over to the cd player and I popped in the disc and hi play. I just decided to play the title track since it was kind of an obvious choice. I sat down on my desk when the music started. The class seemed to enjoy it, which I was happy to see since I find it pretty damn impossible to not like The Beatles.

When the song was over, I went over to the cd player, stopped the cd, and pulled it out so I could put it back in its case. I set the case back down on my desk and turned to face the class.
"So, how did everyone like the song?" I asked. The kids nodded their heads and were murmuring their enjoyment. I hoped that they actually liked the song and weren't just trying to be polite. I think they genuinely liked it, though.
"I'm glad to see that everyone liked the song," I said, nodding my own head, "We'll be listening to a lot more of The Beatles this year."
I then saw a hand go up in the back. I pointed to the person that the hand belonged to and said, "Yes?"
"Why are you here?" said the boy in a pretty nasty and bitchy voice. I was a little shocked. I hadn't expected any questions like that.
"I'm here to teach you guys about the other side of music," I replied, "I know that you guys eat, sleep, and breath classical music, and I have nothing against that. But your principal hired me to teach you guys about the raunchier, grittier side of music. I've been hired to teach you about the dangerous side of music."

That shut the little bastard up. Which was good since I don't feel like dealing with any smart asses, at least not on my first day. Hopefully, the kid won't do it again, but I highly doubt that. But I honestly thought that the kid would have more fight in him. Maybe he didn't feel like pissing the new teacher off too much on the first day.
"Now, I think we should move on to more important things,"I said, "I think I should go over the curriculum with you guys for this year." I leaned against the front of my desk.
"Ok, first off, we are going to learn about every form of rock music there is. Everything from grunge to punk to metal," I told them, "I'm going to have you guys right a few reports for me this year, too." A few people groaned, which I was happy to hear because I would have been really scared if they didn't.
"One is going to be on your favorite band that you learned about this year. Another one will be on what you think you got out of this class," I explained, "Obviously, those two won't come around until the end of the year." I paused for a second and then continued.
"I might hand out one or two other ones during the year, but I can't think of any off the top of my head," I told them.
"But don't worry, we'll do some fun projects, too," I said with a smile. "I'm going to teach every one of you how to play at least one instrument. I'm also going to see if I can arrange for us to go to some concerts. Oh, and for extra credit, you can start a band with some of your fellow classmates. And by "start a band," I don't mean just tell me you formed one. You gotta show me and play a song for me. It could be one you wrote or just a cover of another song."
I saw a few people look even more interested at the idea of starting their own band and going to concerts. Another good sign.
"Now," I said, clapping my hands together, "I think we should listen to some more music, ask any questions that pop into your heads, and just relax. I'm not gonna give you any work until next class." I got so many smiles.

We spent the rest of the class listening to The Ramones, Nirvana, and some Green Day, while I played along to as many songs as I could. I would use a different instrument for every song. The kids were really having a good time. A lot of the girls kept asking me about Green Day and Billie Joe. I love telling people about them so this was one of the best aspects of the day, in my eyes.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of class, everyone looked a little sad to be leaving. Seeing this gave me a warm feeling inside. Yeah, yeah, I know, kinda mushy, but oh well. I was glad to see that I gave the kids a good time.
"Okay guys, before you go, I just want to say that my first day here was a lot of fun and I hope that we can have this much fun every class," I told them.
"Bye, Ms. Ericson," they all said as they walked out the door.
"Wow, that went better than I thought it would," I thought to myself while I packed up my stuff and getting ready to leave.
As I was walking down the hall, I heard somebody call my name.
"Ms. Ericson! Ms. Ericson!"
I turned around and saw Mr. Kessler walking toward me. He was smartly dressed in a navy blue suit with a white shirt and blue tie. I stopped walking so that he could catch up.
"Oh hi, Mr. Kessler. You caught me just in time, I was walking out to my car," I told him.
"Well then may I be your escort?" he asked in a very gentleman-like way.
"I don't see why not," I replied.
We continued down the hall, toward the front of the school.
"So, how was your first day here at St. Luke's?" Mr. Kessler asked after a moment or two of awkward silence.
"I thought it went really well," I replied, nodding my head, "The kids seem to be excited for this class." I decided to leave out the smart ass...for now, anyway.
"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that, Ms. Ericson!" Mr. Kessler exclaimed with a big smile.

We soon reached my car and we bid each other good-bye. I dumped all my stuff into the backseat of my Jaguar and climbed into the front seat. I sat there for a second, reflecting on the day. Overall, I had a blast. These kids seem to be coming out of their classical music-induced shell. Maybe I could crack them out completely by the end of the year.

I started my car and pulled out of my parking spot. I drove out of the big gates that marked the entrance to the school grounds and started driving home. I popped in a Beatles cd and sang my heart out all the way home.