The bright sun shined on the back of Jack as he made his way to school. He took several looks down the alley where he had played Ox the day before, but couldn’t see anybody. Other kids were walking to school too. Jack had never seen so many African Americans and Latino’s before in his life. Most of the kids were African American, but there were even a few white kids sprinkled in too. By the time Jack reached the school the first bell had already rang. Jack decided he better get into the main office and figure out where he needed to go.
The main office was pretty chaotic with phones ringing, students asking for late slips, and teachers checking their mail boxes as they scurried off to class. Jack wasn’t one who would normally wait around for people, but he thought in this instance he would take in the chaos. He laughed to himself as he heard one of the secretaries explain to a parent that it didn’t matter if their daughter had a sun burn, she would still be marked absent from school. A boy who was dressed in all black and wore a do rag on his head was trying to convince a security guard that he didn’t throw a rock at the school. Jack was in simple amazement by what he walked into. This was a far cry from Parsons Kansas. Finally a woman behind the desk called for Jack.
“What is it you need?”
“I’m new here…this is my first day here.”
“Well…welcome to Davis Middle School. What’s your last name?”
“Uhh…Hampton…Jack Hampton.”
“Let me see here…yes…here you are…looks like you need to go the counseling office so they can get you a schedule.”
“Where’s the counseling office?”
“Go out the hall and to the right. You can’t miss it.”
Jack checked his backpack to make sure it was still latched on to his shoulders and headed down the hall. The halls were beginning to thin out and then what sounded like a final bell rang. Within a few seconds the halls were clear. Jack saw a big sign pointing to the counseling office and went in. A large lady sat at a reception desk.
“Can I help you?”
“Yeah…my name is Jack Hampton and today is my first day…the main office sent me here to get registered for classes or something like that.”
“What grade are you in?”
“Ummm…should be in seventh grade.”
“Have a seat and I’ll get the seventh grade counselor to meet with you.”
Jack sat down on a chair that looked like it belonged in a doctor’s office. The counseling office was painted with soft green and blue colors and had inspirational message posters hanging on the wall. Jack tried to read the posters, but felt like they all said the same thing, “Reach High”, “Go Beyond”, or some other stupid phrase that was already a cliché. After a few minutes a tall woman with dark black hair, brown eyes, and chiseled facial features came out and called for Jack.
“Are you Jack Hampton?”
“Yes I am.”
“My name is Mrs. Cordova…come back to my office with me and we’ll get you taken care of.”
Jack followed Mrs. Cordova down a narrow well lit corridor to a spacious office. The office was full of art that reminded Jack of the stuff the Indians from the reservation would bring to sell at swap meets during the summer. He was mostly shocked by the tiny fountain that sat on Mrs. Cordova’s desk. Water gently rippled down the smooth rounded stones over and over again.
“So Jack?...your mom emailed the school a couple of weeks back with all of your information. It looks like you just moved here from Kansas?”
“Yes. My mom got some job here so we moved into this crummy apartment down the street.”
“I take it you don’t like it here.”
“I like it fine…I just don’t like the apartment. My mom thinks we’ll be ready to move into something nicer in a month or so.”
“That’s good…are you going to stay close to the school?”
“Not sure…I want to stay here to see if I can play basketball with this kid I played with the other day.”
“We have a competitive basketball team at the school…maybe you should try to make the team? I think they are having tryouts next week. Should we figure out your classes for this semester?”
“What’s a semester?”
“A semester is a certain amount of time you will be taking the same courses. We have two semesters a year here at Davis. Are you ready to find out what classes you’ll be in?”
“Shouldn’t my mom be here for that?”
“Sometimes parents come in, but your mom wrote in her email that she was okay with you picking your own classes with my help.”
“Why would she trust you to help me when you’ve never met her and this is the first time you met me?”
“You are full of questions Jack…I think we just better get you set up and get you off to class.”
“I guess so…so what are my choices?”
“Well…every student here at Davis must take English, Math, Science, and Social Studies. According to your grades and test scores we will be putting you in the Orange Track.
“What’s that?”
“Each grade level here has three different tracks. In each track there are four teachers that teach the four required classes.”
“So am I in the low track?”
“All of the tracks have students with different abilities. Are you concerned that you don’t learn well?”
“I just don’t get good test scores, but my mom says I can usually do the work to get by in a class.”
“That’s good Jack. Hopefully you’ll do well in the Orange Track…So what about your electives?”
“What do you mean?”
“Electives are the classes that you get to choose yourself.”
“You mean I get to pick the rest of my classes?”
“Yes you do…but you need my approval.”
“So what do I get to choose from?”
“We still have opening in gym classes, industrial arts, Spanish, French, and choir. Which classes sound interesting?”
“I’m definitely taking gym. I need to be active or I’ll go crazy…Can you tell me what industrial arts is?”
“Sure…you’ll learn about fixing things you might find around your house. I think they are doing a unit on computers right now. The teacher covers other things too. He has had a class fix a lawnmower engine and one time the class re-wired the electricity in the basement of the school. A lot of boys like his class quite a bit.”
“Well that sounds better than choir or learning some crazy language. I’ll take industrial arts.”
“Perfect…let me put your schedule into the computer and then I’ll print you off a copy.”
“Do you know the class I’ll go to first?”
“I’m glad to see a boy so inquisitive as you Jack. I think you’re going to like come to Davis…Your first class is math with Mr. Madison. Here is a note to excuse for being late and if you ever need to talk about something that comes up feel free to come find me…It was very nice to meet you Jack and I’m glad you’re here.”
“It’s good to be here. Thanks Mrs. Cordova.”
Jack took the excuse slip and schedule from Mrs. Cordova and walked out of the counseling office. He saw that his class was on the second floor and he quickly went up the closest set of stairs to find where he needed to be. He couldn’t believe he was in such a big school where he could choose some of his own classes.