3. Oliver

THREE

Oliver

I walk into my office, but Superintendent Daniels is nowhere to be found. I radio Ms. Madge on the walkie-talkie. “Have you seen the supe?” I ask her.

“Bathroom,” she responds, her voice tinny over the contraption.

Sighing, I sit at my desk, looking for something to organize, a pen to put away, a stack of papers to file, but it’s orderly, immaculate. I sip my now lukewarm coffee, thinking.

We are only three weeks into September, and the situation has devolved into chaos. We’ve been searching for a teacher for 302 this entire time, the previous year’s teacher surprising us all when she didn’t come back after the summer. We must have interviewed ten teachers so far, each one of them absolute duds—crazy, strange, apathetic, just there to collect a paycheck. One had a criminal record. Another had half the words on his lesson plan spelled incorrectly.

Meanwhile, the class has crumbled completely, a new substitute teacher assigned to our school each day. Today’s substitute teacher was fresh out of college, green as grass, at twenty-one years old. The students, like sharks sensing wounded prey, have taken full advantage. My inbox was constantly pinging with angry emails from unhappy parents.

We’re approaching desperation.

However, there’s no way in hell that this Georgia Baker would be able to handle this class. The level of organization and skill a teacher would need to handle that chaos? There’s no way the sloppy, beautiful garbage woman would be the right fit, but I figured I would let Lina have this. Every moment is a teachable moment, and this way, I can coach her through running effective interviews. The importance of first impressions. I want to get back up there to coach her through what to look out for in a demo lesson?—

Superintendent Daniels, my boss, the leader of District 13, strides into my office without knocking, a dark-skinned man in his 50s, slight in build, nose too wide and eyes too close together to be considered handsome, head shaved. He is in his standard uniform, a dark suit, tie, and Nike Jordans. I’m a cool superintendent, is the look he tries, and fails, in my opinion, to convey. “Good morning, Oliver,” he says to me, smile wide, hand outstretched. I shake his hand.

“Good morning, Mr. Daniels,” I reply. I gesture at the seat on the other side of my desk. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“If she can make me a coffee, milk, no sugar, that would be fantastic,” he says, gesturing vaguely towards the main office.

“Unfortunately, Ms. Madge is our school secretary and not my personal assistant,” I reply. “She’s probably very busy. I’m happy to pour you a cup, though.” I say, pointing to my machine, pot half filled with brewed coffee.

He sputters slightly, looking at me, trying to figure out if I am judging him over that faux pas. I raise an eyebrow, giving him nothing. I am judging you, you arrogant prick . “Well, that’s all right. Wouldn’t want to be a bother,” he says eventually .

I shrug. “It’s there if you need some later,” I reply. I’m ready to get started and get this man out of my office, so that I can finish some actual, real, tangible work. “So, I’ve prepared a slide deck showing our current finances, budget, enrollment num?—”

“Oliver,” he cuts me off. I pause, seething internally. “Oliver, I’m not here to look at your budget. I know your budget. I know you’ve improved your numbers. That’s not why I’m here,” he says, silkily. “I’m here because of a number of parent complaints to my office. Because their children have been without a permanent teacher for three whole weeks ? And the teacher these children did have last year was shit?”

I grit my teeth. “I’m not sure if you know this, Mr. Daniels, but there is a severe teacher shortage across the country right now. We?—”

“Additionally,” he continues condescendingly, as if I hadn’t spoken, “the scores of complaints were such that I looked into the class’s details myself.” I scoff. More like had his assistant look into it. Daniels wouldn’t be able to find a file if it were placed in the middle of his bare, gleaming chestnut desk. “The test scores of that class last year were low. Significantly so. So much so that they brought down the District numbers. So you can see why this is a problem.”

“No, not really,” I reply. “The district scores as a whole don’t really impact enrollment. It’s not?—”

The superintendent cuts me off again. “I’m telling you it’s a problem,” he says with a sneer. “It’s making us look bad. This is the reason I’m here,” he says. “I need a teacher in that room, Oliver. Three entire weeks is unacceptable. Get a body in there. Immediately. I don’t care if you pick someone up off the street.”

The image of Georgia Baker’s shock of wavy hair and electric blue eyes pops into my head.

“After that, get that classroom’s test scores up.” Mr. Daniels sits back in his chair, resting his ankle on his knee, tenting his fingers. “All eyes in the district are on that classroom. After the number of phone calls to my office, everyone is looking at PS 2 now.”

“And like I said, we’re handling it. Also, respectfully, Mr. Daniels, that makes little sense—” I try.

He puts his hand up again. I want to smack it down. “Oliver, you are the darling of this district. I know your success stories. I know how you turn schools around. I am confident you can get this done.” He looks like he remembers something. “Ms. Madge told me you have an interview up there right now. Hire her. I don’t care who she is. Hire her.” He gives me a look. “Do you understand me?”

Fuck . “I don’t think that teacher is a good fit?—”

“Did you not hear me? I said hire her. End of story.” He claps his hands, signaling the end of the discussion. “Now, I’ll take that coffee.”

Fuck.

This can’t be happening.

Of all times Daniels could’ve stormed into my office. Of all people who could have been interviewing here when he did so.

I’d unfortunately already grouped Chaotic Garbage Woman together with the Crazy/Strange slice of interviews. My skin begins to crawl thinking of the amount of work we’re going to have to put in with her to get those scores up. I can’t put that on Lina. That means I’m going to have to be her direct supervisor and her coach this year. That means I need to be on top of her. I’m going to have to ride her fucking ass.

Superintendent Daniels spends the next excruciating fifteen minutes of my time sipping on the coffee I pour him, his self-important voice droning on and on about his recent invitation to the Mayor’s office. He regales me with tales of the “robust” conversation they allegedly shared about the state of education in the city, as if he’s just solved New York City’s education problem with a flick of his wrist.

I grind my teeth, silently seething with every word that spills from his lips, hating this man, hating our current District office, hating the Central office, hating the Chancellor’s office, bloated positions with high ranking, lofty titles but no real meat, real work behind them. Which makes Mr. Daniels the perfect candidate for the job, I think, watching him drink his coffee and chat at his leisure on a Monday morning during the first month of school, arguably the busiest time of the entire school year. Making me hire insane people off the street without a care in the world for my students.

Daniels seems to be talking about nothing, so I review my list of professional goals, in order of priority. Lists are good. Lists give me the modicum of control I need to feel over unknown situations. Such as the future.

Fix this school

Get it to a strong and stable enough place to leave for my predecessor

Get a promotion to our District Office

Make genuine change happen while there. Do proper work

Push Daniels out, eventually

Make District 13 the new ‘hot’ school district: diverse, high performing, well regarded

Keep moving up

Actually attempt to solve New York City’s education problems

Daniels is still blathering on after that, so I make a new list. A list of tasks I need to complete today, in order of priority.

Get upstairs to finish this damn interview

Get on the phone with the Department of Buildings regarding this air conditioning

Attend the fifth grade curriculum planning meeting

Call—

“PLEASE EXCUSE THE INTERRUPTION,” Ms. Madge’s voice announces over the P.A. system. “WILL THE OWNER OF THE YELLOW PORSCHE, LICENSE PLATE B-K-B-O-S-S, PLEASE MOVE YOUR VEHICLE? YOU ARE PARKED ILLEGALLY AND BLOCKING A SCHOOL BUS FROM THE DROP OFF POINT.”

I raise an eyebrow at the superintendent. “Big Burger King fan?” I ask.

His laugh is loud and forced. “Funny, Oliver.” He clears his throat, looking at his watch. “Well, will you look at the time,” he says. He places his coffee mug on my desk as if it is his own personal coaster. “I have a meeting over at PS 100 in five minutes,” he laughs. “I’ll never make it there in time.”

Yes, because being disrespectful of people’s time is hilarious.

“Oliver, it’s been a pleasure. Remember what I’ve told you. We’re watching you. Go tell that teacher the position is hers. In fact, you should’ve been up there ten minutes ago.” His chuckle is a grating, grinding thing.

He pauses suddenly, a lightbulb seeming to pop up above his head. He’s so dim that you can see it turn it on. He looks at me for a moment. Leaning forward, eyes boring into mine, he says, “Oliver, I’ve known from the beginning of your tenure here as principal that you have wanted to move up the ladder to work in my office. You’ve proven time and time again that you are able to improve schools.”

He stands up from his chair and buttons his jacket. “Consider this your last test. Your final round of the interview. Get that class’s test scores up, and you have a place in my office, as my very own Deputy Superintendent.”

I blink at him, thoughts racing. God fucking dammit . Her? For this? My smile is forced as I stand up to shake his hand. “Noted, Mr. Daniels. I’ll do my best. Have a great day.” He leaves without a glance back.

I blow out a breath, inexplicably irritated now. This is it. This is the opportunity you’ve been waiting for.

New list. Or rather, an addendum to my list of professional goals. And another addendum to my list of things to do.

Fix this school

Get it to a strong, stable place to leave for my predecessor

Start by getting upstairs, hiring Georgia Baker, and then ride her ass into the fucking ground

Get a promotion to our District Office.

I text Lina.

Make sure she’s not a complete psychopath, but otherwise, she’s hired. Will explain later.

??

Just need a body.

I slip my phone back into my pocket and head upstairs to start down the list.