Mother

Chapter 10

As I finished tidying up the classroom, there was a knock on the door. I looked up to see a tall dark haired young man standing in the doorway, a friendly smile on his face. I guess he was Mr. Smith, the one man the principal told me about.

"Hey, Ayla," he greeted warmly. "I thought I'd stop by and show you around the school, if you have time. Mrs. Edwards mentioned you might need a little tour."

My name is Fredrick Smith, i'm the vice principal here by the way, and it's a pleasure meeting you. He said extending his hand.

I smiled back, grateful for the offer. Nice to meet you to Mr.Smith. The tour  would be great. I'm still getting used to the layout here." I answered shaking his hand.

He then motioned for me to follow him, and I grabbed my bag before heading out of the room. As we walked down the hallways, the soft murmur of students chatting filled the air. The school had a calm, welcoming atmosphere despite its size, and it was clear how much care had gone into making it a place where both students and staff could thrive. I mean what was I thinking this is a private school to begin with.

"So, how has your first day gone so far?" Mr. Smith asked as we walked.

"Pretty well, I think," I replied, trying to sound confident. "The kids have been great, and I'm starting to getting a little more comfortable."

"That's good to hear," he implied. "This place can feel a bit like a maze at first, but you'll get the hang of it. Let me show you a few key spots."

We passed through the central courtyard, a large open space where students were gathered in small groups, chatting and laughing. Mr. Smith pointed out the library, the gymnasium, and a few classrooms where some of the more specialized subjects were taught.

Finally, we made our way to the teachers lounge. As we entered, a few of the other teachers were seated around the room, sipping coffee or prepping for their next classes. The room was cozy, with large windows that let in a lot of natural light and a bulletin board filled with announcements and notes.

Mr. Smith turned to me. "This is where we all gather during breaks. Let me introduce you to the team."

I felt a small wave of nerves hit me as he called for the attention of the other teachers. A few heads turned, and soon the room went quiet as everyone looked our way.

"Everyone, this is Ayla," Mr. Smith announced. "She's our new art teacher. Ayla, meet your colleagues."

A couple of them waved, while others smiled in greeting. I offered a small wave in return. "Hi, everyone. It's nice to meet you all I'm Ayla Thompson.""

One of the teachers, a woman with curly hair and kind eyes, stood up and walked over. "I'm Ms. Ramirez. I teach English. Welcome aboard!" she said warmly, extending her hand.

I shook her hand gratefully. "Thank you. I'm excited to be here."

Another teacher, Mr. Jacobson, who looked like he taught P.E. with his athletic build, chimed in from the back of the room. "You'll love it here. Great kids, great team. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

I smiled, feeling some of my nerves ease. "Thanks, I appreciate that."

Mr. Smith gestured for me to follow him again. "Let me show you where your workspace is,  Ms. Thompson.

"Oh please just call me Ayla." I replied getting flustered.

"Okay, if that's what you want." Mr. Smith answered.

We made our way to the lounge's corner  which was smaller and quieter.

"This will be  your workplace."  Mr. Smith said pointing at an empty table."This area is all yours feel free to make it your own."

"Thank you for everything Mr. Smith I appreciate everything you've done for me today. I said feeling very grateful.

"No worries just try to get used to everything and everyone and you will be alright.

"But I can't stay any longer so if you need any help don't be afraid to ask your fellow coworkers." Mr. Smith said leaving the lounge room.

After Mr. Smith left the teachers lounge, I sat down at my new workspace, taking a moment to soak it all in. I watched as the other teachers began to filter out, getting ready for their next classes. The place was starting to feel less foreign, but the reality that my next class was just minutes away sent a familiar mix of excitement and nerves coursing through me.

I took a deep breath and gathered my materials. Okay, first day of teaching at a new school. For the second time today, "I've got this."

When I arrived at the art room, and opened the door the second class started coming in, their chatter filling the space. A group of fourth graders, kids younger than my own students I had met today in the morning, all wide-eyed and full of energy, fell quiet as I greeted them with a smile.

"Good morning, everyone! I'm Ms. Thompson, and I'm your new art teacher," I said, trying to project confidence. "I'm really excited to get to know you all and see what kind of creative things we'll make together."

Some smiled back; others just stared, probably sizing me up. I gave a quick introduction about myself and then laid out what we'd be doing for the day—just something simple to start, a basic drawing exercise.

"Before we start I'm going to take attendance, so please raise your hand when you hear your name."

Gabriela Simmons........ "Here."

Carlos Patterson....... "Here."

Hector Bailey........ "Here."

Caroline Gomez ........ "Here."

Teresa Matthews......... "Here."

Luisa Bennett......... "Here."

"Done, did I forget to mention anyone's name." I asked looking around, but no one raised their hand or uttered a word.

"okay now Remember, there's no wrong way to do this," I told them as I handed out paper and pencils. "Art is about expressing yourself, so just have fun with it."

I walked around the room as they worked, offering a few words of encouragement and answering some nervous questions. I was relieved to see most of them settle in, and soon the soft sound of pencils scratching against paper filled the room. It was... peaceful. More quiet than first period. Also very peaceful for a first-day class of fourth graders, if I'm honest.

Before I knew it, the bell rang. I blinked, a little startled at how quickly the time had passed. I smiled as they packed up their supplies, some of them even offering quick goodbyes as they shuffled out. Two class down, I thought, exhaling. On to the next.

There wasn't much time to reflect before the next group, seventh graders this time, started filing in. I reset the room, shifting gears for a slightly more advanced activity. It was a whirlwind—one class after another, with barely any time in between to catch my breath.

Each class had its own vibe. Some groups were chatty, others quieter, but I found myself enjoying the variety. The students' curiosity and enthusiasm were infectious, even when they were still getting used to me. By the time my fifth class of the morning wrapped up, I could feel my energy starting to dip. The rapid pace and constant switching between projects had my head spinning.

Finally, the bell rang for lunch. Thank goodness, I thought, wiping a smudge of charcoal from my hand. I lingered in the art room for a moment, letting the quiet settle in after the noise and motion of the morning. I was exhausted, but also a little exhilarated. I grabbed my things and headed for the cafeteria.