September 2, 2005
“Hi, Ms. Martin, I’m Jim Halpert,” Jim said, extending his hand.
“Yes, I know,” Angela said, shaking his hand firmly. “I would have liked to participate in the hiring process myself, but Michael assures me you will do a good job.”
“Well, I’m certainly going to do my best.”
“Yes. Okay. Well, this is the curriculum from the county. You need to draw up lesson plans and submit them to me by Thursday using this curriculum. There is a suggested list of outside reading, beyond the textbook, listed in the curriculum. You need to pick at least five of those readings and submit your choices to me. I also need a syllabus by Thursday, which generally outlines your lesson plans, lists classroom policies, and includes how you will evaluate your students.”
“Evaluate?”
“You know- grades? The reason students come to school. Learning? Where did they find you?”
“Um… Penn State?”
“Party school. Figures. Nothing but heathens coming out of there.”
“So you went to…”
“Messiah College. In Grantham. I majored in English and was certified to teach for grades 7-12. I received a 4.0 grade point average. I also minored in Biblical and Religious studies, which brought me even closer to the Lord. I then began here three years ago and have quickly risen to become head of the English department.”
“Wow… that’s um… quite impressive, Angela.”
“Ms. Martin.”
“Ms. Martin. Sorry.”
“What did you major in at… Penn State?” Angela asked, saying ‘Penn State’ with utter contempt and distaste.
“I actually double majored in English and Education. Which is why I’m here trying to be an English teacher.”
“Hmmph. Well, how were your grades Mr. Halpert?”
“Um, I did pretty well. A’s and B’s.”
“Well, maybe you will be adequate as a member of this department, then. Here are your materials. Your classroom is Room 707. I suggest you get to work, since you have never before written lesson plans.”
“Well, actually I did that when I student taught, but thanks for the advice, I guess. Good to meet you, Ms. Martin.”
“Good bye.”
Jim walked out of the room and let out a big exhale. Why did he just feel like he stepped down from the witness stand after cross-examination? The two people that he directly answered to were an uptight disciplinarian and a middle aged man who acted like a misguided teenager. Pam’s pretty cool, though, he thought. I need to get to know her. Jim walked down the hall and turned right into his classroom. Wow. His classroom. It was only six years ago that he sat in the back of this classroom and shot a spitball at Dwight. He laughed to himself. Dwight had jumped up and yelled, “Mucous!” causing the whole room to erupt in laughter. Even the teacher had chuckled, having long ago tired of Dwight’s brownnosing, weird opinions, tattle-tale nature, and just…everything else about Dwight. Jim sometimes missed those days. But now he had to get to work creating lesson plans and a syllabus. Jim sat down at his desk, pulled some paper and a pen out of his messenger bag, and got to work.
Forty-five minutes later, Jim’s head hit his desk. He thought he might die of boredom. Yes, he had written lesson plans before, and yes he was somewhat excited about being a teacher, but this was painful. He was coming off a summer of doing nothing. How could anyone expect him to jump right back into some kind of working routine with both feet? Jim groaned and walked out of his classroom, noticing the bare walls and thinking he would have to do something to spruce this place up a bit. Jim walked toward the faculty break room. He knew where that was from his school days. He smiled and remembered the time that he told Dwight that some teachers were in there plotting against Mr. Truck. Dwight ran in and began yelling accusations at the teachers, who were none too pleased. When Mr. Truck pulled Dwight out of the room, Dwight spent twenty minutes trying to explain that his actions were only out of loyalty and that it was the teachers who should be punished. Yeah, that was a good day. Dwight deserved it though for raising his hand during Algebra class and telling the teacher that Jim was playing tetris on his calculator and that it was ‘disruptive to the learning environment.’ Ugh. Jim stepped into the break room, and for the first time today, saw his nemesis.
“Hey, Dwight.”
“Jim?” Dwight said as he stood up. He had been sitting behind Angela in a chair, and apparently the two had been talking, while both sat in chairs facing the same direction. Weird. “What are you doing here?”
“Just getting some coffee,” Jim said as he picked up the coffee pot and poured some coffee into his Penn State mug.
“Bye, Ms. Martin,” Jim said as he turned toward the door as Angela scurried out of the room.
When Jim turned back around toward the interior of the room, Dwight was three inches away staring right into his face. “Jim, let me make something quite clear. I am now your boss. I graduated college in three years, which is something that takes a slacker like you four.”
“Don’t they call it a four year degree?” Jim interrupted.
“For a normal person, yes, but I am a Schrute. I worked very hard to get where I am today, and am older and wiser than I was when you knew me. Do not mess with me, Halpert.”
“O-kay, then. What were you talking to Angela about?”
“Angela from English?”
“Um, yeah, you know, the person who was just in here talking to you.”
“We were speaking about education business. The new textbooks should be arriving today, and we were also discussing possible changes to the curriculum, not that it’s any of your business.”
“I actually think that changes to the English curriculum would be my business, you know, since I am an English teacher.”
“Jim, do not question my authority. I am Assistant Principal…”
“Assistant to the Principal,” Jim corrected.
“Same thing,” Dwight said.
“Um, I’m pretty sure it’s not. Remember in my interview? Michael specifically said that it’s lower.”
“You can refer to Michael as Mr. Scott. Michael has accomplished things in secondary education that you cannot even fathom. No one in this school will ever be able to come even close to accomplishing what he has.”
“Did you just call Mr. Scott Michael? With all his accomplishments, I would figure everyone would have to refer to him as Mr. Scott.”
“I alone can call him Michael. As Assistant Principal…”
“Assistant to the Principal.”
“I am the number two ranking person in this school. I have earned the right to speak to Michael in an informal matter, as a sign of mutual respect.”
“Sure, Dwight. I’m going to get back to work. I have to fill out those forms Michael wanted everyone to fill out by noon or he’s going to be ticked,” Jim said as he began to walk out of the room.
“What form?” Dwight asked.
“Dwight, c’mon, you know what form,” Jim said, still walking away.
“Jim, as your boss…”
“You are not my boss.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Not really. I checked. Your position is really kind of an informal one. I answer to Michael and Angela.”
“Jim, it’s Mr. Scott and Ms. Martin. Second, I am the second in command here, and as such I order you to tell me what form you are going to fill out.”
“Fine. Mich…Mr. Scott wanted everyone to write down their suggestions for the new cafeteria menu and submit them to him by the end of the day.”
“What?”
“Dwight- you’re the second highest ranking person here. I just assumed you would know about the investigations.”
“What investigations?” Dwight whispered conspiratorially.
“Dwight, if you don’t know, I’m not sure I’m the person to be telling you this. I mean, I don’t want to get in trouble.”
“Jim, as a Schrute I am extremely trustworthy. No one will know. Now, what is the investigation?”
“Okay, Dwight, but this is just between us. Apparently, the Department of Health found some things in the cafeteria that were…well, they should not have been there. Now the whole operation is in jeopardy, and Michael wanted everyone’s suggestions about what we could do.”
“I see,” Dwight said. “Perhaps I should make my own investigation. As a roadside beet salesman, I have a great deal of experience in the food service industry.”
Jim had to contain his smile. This was going just as he thought it would. “Just be careful, Dwight. The people I saw go in there…it’s pretty bad, Dwight. Some kind of virus they can’t identify yet. If I personally were to go back there…do you have like some sort of protective suit you could wear?”
“Of course I do. After I saw Outbreak and heard about the bird flu, I bought a protective suit to protect myself from biological attack.”
“Great thinking, Dwight. I just wish I had one. If you are going anywhere near the cafeteria, I would be sure to put that on.”
“I keep one in my office. I’ll be sure to get it. Jim, you did the right thing in telling me about this.”
“Dwight, it was my honor.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
Last chapter for the day.
I think Angela would fit in very well with a couple of my old English teachers.
Oh, and I know very little about teaching, so if it’s inaccurate, I apologize. I figure having Michael as the principal will help my cause some, since his school will run nothing like a school actually should.
I think Angela would fit in very well with a couple of my old English teachers.
Oh, and I know very little about teaching, so if it’s inaccurate, I apologize. I figure having Michael as the principal will help my cause some, since his school will run nothing like a school actually should.
Chapter End Notes:
This chapter actually went in a very different direction from where I imagined. The prank just came to me as I was typing. Weird. I hope it works. I can personally see Dwight keeping a biohazard protection suit in his office.
And there actually is a Messiah College in Grantham, PA.
More tomorrow.
And there actually is a Messiah College in Grantham, PA.
More tomorrow.
