Page 6 of In Her Own Way
“Ahh,” she said, “everyone loves labels, don’t they? Including poets, I suppose.” She was just about to click over to the next screen when her classroom door opened.
Shit.Assistant Principal Herrera came in to observe and sneaked to the back of the room. He had to stand because the classroom was packed, with every student seat taken. Jessica nodded in acknowledgement, and the principal simply motioned for her to continue.
“Eyes front, please,” Jessica asked quietly because most heads had turned to watch the administrator. “As I was saying, poetry can be fun.” She laughed at the scoffs of disbelief and clicked for the next page. A poem projected on the white board.
We play our rivals
Instant gratification
No one can beat us
“This poem is a Haiku, and I’m positive you all know what that is. Three lines. Five syllables, seven, then five. The purpose of a haiku is to basically capture a fleeting moment. Many are about nature. A haiku aims to evoke a feeling or insight. This one I showed you evokes a feeling about the writer. What—” Hands went up. She hadn’t even finished her question. “Jack, go.”
“The writer’s kind of cocky. No one can beat his team. Orherteam.”
Jessica touched her nose with the tip of her finger. “Good catch. Anyone else? Yes, Maya.”
“It’s not about nature.”
“No, it isn’t. I wrote this one to get the idea across, but there is one other—” She chuckled again. She loved getting interrupted by their enthusiasm. She pointed to her resident smarty-pants in the front row. “Michael?”
“The first three letters of each line spell the wordWIN. Was that on purpose?”
“Absolutely,” Jessica said. “A poem that includes that fun detail is called an acrostic poem.” She popped the famous Edgar Allan Poe acrostic poem titled ‘Elizabeth’ on the screen and read it out loud. The letters of each of the nine-line poem spelled out the nameELIZABETH. She then showed several other examples and segued back to Haiku. She kept her eye on the time and, with four minutes left to the class, said, “Your assignment for today’s lesson is in the Period 7 assignment folder online. You’ll be writing three Haiku and at least one acrostic poem.” A hand went up. She winked at the student and added, “One of your Haikus may double as an acrostic poem. Saves time, right?” The hand went down. She smiled at the student, knowing that would be the question.
She made a show of glancing at the clock, even though she knew full well what the time was, and said, “Time to pack up, but do not stand until that bell actually rings.”
Once the bell rang, Jessica made short work of resetting her notes for the next and final period of the day. In fifty minutes, the weekend would be officially there. She couldn’t wait for tomorrow. Mistress Starr always came through for her. And, wow, did she need relief from all this stress. Ooh, and maybe her occasional play partner, Cazadora Catalina, would be there and want to play in one of the private rooms. A girl could dream. It had been way too long since—
“Ms. Bennett,” Principal Herrera said.
Shit.She’d forgotten he was there.Get a grip, Jessica. He had officially jolted her back to reality.
The principal walked up to Jessica’s lectern in the front of the room. He was nearing retirement, and his clothes were as gray as his hair. Even his skin looked gray.A smoker,came the unbidden thought. Jessica couldn’t read the chicken scratch notes on his legal pad, but she probably didn’t want to. She was confident in her teaching methods, so whatever he had written didn’t matter. Except…it did.
“That was an inspiring lesson,” he said. “I think we can expand on that.”
We?
“As I was listening back there, it occurred to me that we haven’t had a good poetry slam at PUA in ages. And our literary magazine fizzled out a few years ago. Look into resurrecting those, won’t you?” Without waiting for a reply, he added, “I’ll tell your department chair about this.” And with that, he nodded once as if all was settled and headed out the classroom door.
The students filtering in for her Period 8 class parted to make way for him as he walked out. The door had barely closed after the exiting administrator when the bell rang to start class.No. She needed a minute. The students were happily chattering away, so it was safe to take that minute. She turned her back on the class and opened the top drawer of the filing cabinet in the corner of her room. She rifled unseeing through the files as she willed her emotions to subside. Anger was prominent.No discussion? No asking if I even want to head up a literary magazine? Just ‘Do this.’She growled under her breath. Anxiety was next.If Idon’tdo it, they’ll think I’m not a team player.Anger resurfaced.Why can’t I ever fucking say no? Jee-zus.She took a deep breath and slammed the filing cabinet door closed with more force than she had intended.
No rest for the weary,Jessica thought as she took a cleansing breath. She forced a smile and turned toward her students, who were still chatting happily. Probably because this class was the only thing separating them from the weekend.
“Ms. Bennett,” a student said through the din of student voices, “I hear we’re starting boring poetry.”
Jessica smiled. She had to. The show must go on.
The repeat lesson went well, and once the last student shuffled out the classroom door, she leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath. The exhale came out more like a sigh. Yes, she was tired. Always being “on” was exhausting. And then this literary magazine and poetry slam bullshit was something she now had to carry into the weekend. She couldn’t help it. People pleasers weighed themselves down with other people’s expectations.
She had to get home. Her queen awaited her. She wished her queen were a flesh-and-blood human Domme who would throw her on the bed and have her way with her the moment she walked in the apartment. But no, her queen was three-year-old Misty, a cuddly calico cat who was the best listener ever. Not that great at giving advice, but whatever. Can’t have it all.
Jessica closed her eyes for a moment and took a few deep breaths. She should learn how to meditate, which might help her stay out of her head. With a sigh, she opened her eyes and clicked open her school emails to make sure she wasn’t leaving anything left undone and groaned out loud. An email from her department chair lay there like a wet blanket.
Marjorie Whitaker:Fantastic news, Jessica. Let’s talk next week about the literary magazine you want to set up. Very exciting. We haven’t had one in a while. Have a good weekend.
Jessica groaned. “To answer, or not to answer, that is the question.” She started reciting the rest of the Shakespeare quotation from Hamlet but stopped herself with a laugh. “Turn it off, Jess,” she reprimanded. Yes, she not only needed to turn off teacher mode, but she had to turn off her worry about these new school demands. Otherwise, it would hang over her head all weekend. She clicked open the email.
