Teacher's Ghost

Three years ago, I started teaching at my new school. I left my previous school after 12 years.

I didn't want to leave; I knew where I wanted to be buried under the quad, but enough shit happened those last two years that I knew I had to go.

The new school had new teachers complete “about me” slides.

No.

They had new teachers stand and be introduced.

No.

They had new teacher orientation.

No.

New teachers asked so many questions.

No.

New teachers were assigned mentors.

No.

I was assigned to mentor a new teacher.

I wasn't staying under the radar anymore. That wasn't enough. I was a ghost.

You saw me walk out of my car and back in. You might see me go to the bathroom. You might see me fill up my water.

I wasn't going to be noticed and have more shitty years.

I skipped all the faculty meetings. Who cares about posturing and box checking? Put it in a fucking email.

After one small department meeting on the THIRD day of school, an older teacher, Ms. T, came to me and whispered, "Burn anything down yet?"

I said, “Huh?”

She winked.

On the FIFTH day of school, another older teacher, Ms. P, found me and asked if I could believe the new policy on grades. I replied, “I read the email, and I believe it was sent.”

She rolled her eyes.

During the SECOND WEEK of school, two older teachers entered my classroom to tell me how a male teacher made the pretty new teacher in the department uncomfortable. She was as green as could be.

I suggested they report it to admin.

“Quit fucking around, and take care of it,” one responded.

I put my head in my hands.

“If we put in a word, she will go out with you.”

The walls closed in. I got dizzy and may have vomited.

They helped me off the floor.

“You will never tell her a thing, and I never want to hear a word about that kind of ‘reward’ again,” I said as I regained my balance.

The next day I approached this male teacher. I dealt with it. He and I are now cordial.

A month later, Ms. T told me some nonsense that got a teacher in a weird spot with a student.

"My God, that's terrible," I said as I turned to leave.

She said, "Really!"

I stopped.

“Why are you just letting it go?” she asked.

“I don’t know what it is that you want,” I replied. I could barely keep my eyes open.

"Do what you do."

FUCK. NO. HOW.

I didn't want people to know what I did any more. I didn't want to be noticed or punished for handling issues off the book. My way.

That shit got me exiled and punished before.

I don’t want that on me ever again.

“How do you know me?” I asked.

She let out a gentle laugh.

I still don’t know how.

But I handled it.

Ms. P found me two weeks later and told me a story where a student was mistreated by a teacher.

"That's terrible!" I responded as I went for the exit.

“Wait!” she called. “How will you help?”

I had to start box breathing.

I sighed and looked at the ground.

She said, "Do what you do."

Shrug. FUUUCCCCCKKKK.

I gave them nothing. No coordinates. No map. No social media. No social. No banter. No friendship. No steadiness. No desire. No extras.

How did they still know?

I made sure there were no more misunderstandings with that teacher.

In the second semester, I was in the hallway.

Dr. M, the principal, made eyes on me to settle a situation among students. I could see it brewing, but I can’t deescalate it in front of the principal. That’s a way to get watched.

Her eyes told me to do what I do. My eyes said I don't want to do that anymore. Her eyes said please. My eyes said fuck!

I managed it before it occurred.

I got a nod and eyes from Dr. M saying I can do what I do at the new school.

I still don’t trust the school, but I believe Dr. M.

I now quietly do what I do. I’ll disrupt the disruptions, break the systems, and shock the stakeholders. I will burn down the building in the most subtle of ways without a trace.

I never stick around for more. I ghost it after I resolve it. I wanted to be a ghost. Ghost is my verb now, but it’s no longer my noun.

I guess I'm a reluctant Robin Hood. I take from the rich: the teachers who think they're untouchable, the counselors and admin who think they can do that they want, and the hidden traumas that keep students from being their best. I give it back to the ones who had it taken, but I make sure they never know.

This put a target on my back at my old school. There were pictures wanting a bounty. I was put into the worst spots in the school to get me to leave. I had to get away from that.

The women who'd been around the block already knew it. Immediately.

Without me saying a word.

Now I own it. No, that’s not true. I’m trying to own it but not lead with it.

I never talk about it.

I do what I do.

Then you don't see me after.

I'm not a ghost, but I ghost.

I’m a fixer.

A confronter.

A disruptor.

For those who need something fixed, those in power who need it disrupted, and those who need it confronted.

I tried to outrun it.

My shadow caught up.