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|| TARAJI
I walked around the classroom to ever empty desk, sitting piles of paper-mâché, bottles of food coloring, paint as well as paint brushes, and baking soda and vinegar on top of every desk. Yesterday I allowed the kids to choose between 3 projects for them to do today, and they all decided that they want to make volcanoes. I can't wait to see the unique ways in which they construct their volcanoes. Project days are the best days. A soft knock on the door intercepted my routine. The door swung open shortly after without my permission, but when I saw that it was Fantasia, I didn't think anything of the intrusion. We always pop up in each other's classrooms unannounced, whether we're in the middle of teaching or just chilling during the few breaks that we get. I could tell by the look on her face that something was bothering her, and my eyebrows instinctively furrowed in concern. I hugged her, feeling the need to touch her in some capacity, any capacity. I always try to reassure her through small gestures that she has my love, because for so long she felt like nobody loved her and she didn't know what being loved looked like.
Taraji: What's wrong Tai? The day hasn't even started yet.
Fantasia: It's Aubrey. I found him in the supply closet by the east stairwell this morning when I was looking for the giant sticker sheets.
Taraji: Why do you need giant sticker sheets?
Fantasia: I'm letting the kids decorate their cases for their recorders. Anyway, that's not really the point. I don't even know how he got in, and he's wearing the same clothes that he had on yesterday. If I didn't know any better, I would think that he slept in the school overnight, but we both know that's impossible.
Taraji: Well I'm having a conference with his parents today at 5 o'clock, so hopefully these issues will be nipped in the bud after today. It just doesn't make any sense to me. Where is he now?
Fantasia: In my classroom playing the piano.
Taraji: Let's talk to him, see if he will tell us anything that gives us at least one clue to what's going on.
Fantasia grabbed my hand and lead me to the music room, although I was well aware of where her classroom was located. She just likes to touch me, the same way that I like to touch her. Aubrey was engaged in a very intense, very passionate rendition of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" on the black and white keys. He stopped playing and jumped up to run into my arms when he saw me. I stumbled back a little from the abrupt impact, bending slightly at the waist as I wrapped my arms around his tiny body. I was tempted to pick him up, but treating him like a baby isn't healthy for his growth. I already have him spoiled enough. I don't want him to experience emotional age regression because of my affection treatment towards him, but I can't lie and say that I'm not somewhat overly concerned about him. I'm way too emotionally invested in this child. At the end of the day I'm his teacher, not his mother. I have to keep reminding myself of that fact.
