New Principal

Journal Entry

NOVA is an astronomical event that causes the sudden appearance of a bright new star. That was the inspiration for the name of NOVA CENTRAL SCHOOL. The idea was to produce bright new stars, students that would, after graduation, leave their sheltered home life and go out into the world to make it a better, more friendly place for everyone.

I’m Mark Dunne, assistant principal, who is taking charge of the elementary school due to Mr. Samual DuBoise’s death last week, midway through the school year. I’ve only been the assistance principal for five months and now I’m the designated, temporary principal.

The new principal, Mr. Dominick Wilson, is supposed to arrive at school ready to accept the principal’s responsibilities this coming Monday morning. That’s a relief for me. I’ve been nervous and unsure of myself for a week, so I’ll enjoy having the new principal here.

How the Board of Education got a new principal at this late date during the school year was a mystery to me until I read his very impressive resume. The end of this resume, where is says, ADDITIONAL INFORMATION, had the comment, “Currently on leave of absence.” So, one mystery cleared up and another mystery appears; Why was he on a “leave of absence?” His resume was outstanding. He should have been in demand by a plethora of schools. I better stop. I’m only making the mystery greater, not less. Oh, yeah, another thing; he not an old geezer.

Rumors are spreading like a fat-man’s pants. When a group of people -teachers – work so closely together, it’s easy for rumors to travel from person to person. What rumors?

The first rumor I heard was told to me by Connie McVoy, the elementary school secretary. She told me that she heard from the Middle School secretary that the new principal knew how to handle behavior problem students as well as being charismatic with his teachers and students. Of course, hyperbole is the giant in any rumor-spreading, diminutive group of people.

“Any more rumors that you’ve heard?”

“Not the kind that I can tell you. It’s us girls chatting with off-color speculation. Enough said.”

I was leaning on her desk and she caught my eye and gave me an exaggerated wink, then we both cracked up with laughter.

Connie asked, “What rumors have you heard?”

“The only thing that I’ve heard is the maxim about having a new boss, you know, like ‘Better a man that you know than a man you don’t know.’ But from what I’ve read, he seems to be a nice enough guy.”

“I’m sure he is, but time will be the measuring stick,” Connie whispered as other teachers walked into the office to check their mailboxes.

My back was bothering me while I was bent over Connie’s desk so I stood up straight and asked Connie, “Do you think the shit will hit the fan when he hears about Chucky Bellows and Sally Parks?”

“I don’t know, but it’ll be interesting to hear about what he does with them. And I certainly don’t envy him that particular job.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean. They’re both migraine inducers of the highest caliber. And let’s not forget that each is the leader of a clique of loyal followers.”

“And our new principal can’t go into the girl’s room where Sally creates and organizes many of her pranks and nasty deeds. She’s even been caught smoking a couple of times. That really used to piss-off Sam.”

“Mr. DuBoise couldn’t stand either one of them, especially after what Chucky said to him when Mr. DuBoise asked him about the whereabouts of his friend, Richard, who had skipped school that day. I couldn’t believe Chucky said, “Rich’s up my ass, headfirst. You wanna smell his feet?” Mr. DuBoise’s solution was to suspend him, and Sally, too, indefinitely and tell the parents to home-school them.”

Connie showed a knowing smile, then sighed and purred quietly, “Right. Like that’s going to happen.”

“Well, today’s Friday and he’ll be here Monday morning, so stay alert, and I’ll do the same.”

“Of course.”

Monday morning in early January.

Monday morning arrived and I departed for school earlier than usual. When I got there, I met Connie in the parking lot. She had just arrived, too.

“Great minds, huh Connie?”

“Yeah, but it looks like a greater mind beat us here.” Connie pointed to the unfamiliar car.

I mentioned that it was seven o’clock and Mr. Wilson had still beat us to work.

“Yes, and that may be an important clue to how he likes things,” whispered Connie.

We walked into the office together. Mr. Wilson was standing in his office doorway, a big smile, like butter spread on toast.

He introduced himself as Dom. He shook hands with Connie and said, “The secretary is the grease that keeps everything going smoothly. I’ll be happy to work with you.”

It seemed like his second sentence was something that Connie should have said, not her boss.

Connie went to her desk where she started working. She probably wanted to stay out of the way.

Dom shook my hand, said, “Glad to meet you, Mark,” then invited me into the inner office where I took the visitor’s chair.

As I sat there and Dom fussed with cleaning off his desk, I thought about his size and our handshake. I could still feel it. It was like my baseball in his catcher’s glove, but it was gentle, not pretentiously macho. When we were standing near his door, I had to looked up at Dom as I would a tree. He stood at least six feet four inches, slim, but about two-hundred twenty pounds, give or take. I felt like a sapling to his mature oak because I’m a diminutive five feet ten inches tall and skinny at one hundred fifty pounds.

Dom looked around the room, then at me. “Why don’t you have a desk in here?”

“Well, um, Mr. DuBoise didn’t think I needed one, so I did my paperwork sitting at this chair.”

“Well, that won’t do. I’ll get you a desk ASAP. There’s certainly enough room. I don’t need this much space. I’ll have the top of each of our desks pushed together, facing each other. Good for conversation and passing papers back and forth. How’s that.”

“Nice. Thank you,” I stated and felt my tense neck muscles starting to relax, though I was still nervous.

“Mark, I know you are new as an assistant principal, but we’ll both learn what we need to learn. I teach, by example, just what you need to do as a principal, and you will teach me the ins and outs of this school. We’ll be relying on each other. I talked to the Super, that’s what he called the superintendent this school, over the weekend. He told me that you were so new that he knew very little about you and that you were subtly roped into being the assistant principal because of your experience at this school and because, due to Mr. DuBoise’s age, he needed help. Is that correct?”

“All except being dragged and screaming against the rope because I didn’t really want to be an assistant principal, nor a principal either. I got into teaching to teach students, not desk work, meetings, and the politics involved with the Board of Education.”

“You needn’t worry about that unless you do become a principal. I’ll take care of those things, but you can’t teach students and do this job either. Are you willing to work with me?”

“Sure. I’ll give it a try and I really will help as much as I can. It’ll be a great way for me to decide about being out of the classroom.”

I was trying to focus on his every word and innuendo, but at the back of my mind I was thinking. He seems like a decent guy. So that charismatic rumor is true. Looks like the school got lucky by hiring him.

We worked together smoothly, leaning to trust each other and to even socialize. My wife got along with his wife marvelously. And he was right; I was learning a lot, gaining confidence, feeling good about the job. My worries about working with Dom and doing a job that I resisted vanished like butter in the hot sun. Really. No bullshit.

Connie teased me incessantly by holding up a brown crayon and pretending to color her nose with it, an indication of how comfortable she felt, also.

After about three months, April maybe, with Connie’s proficiency as a secretary, we worked like a well-oiled machine, except for Chucky Bellows and Sally Park. Dom just dealt with them calmly after each incident of their trouble making, but his smile told me that he had something going on in his mind that I didn’t know about, yet.

Everything was running on ball-bearings until the rumors started about a mystery man walking around the neighborhood at night, never causing any harm that anyone reported. The witnesses said he has strange eyes, which glow yellow and appear to be able to project that light.

“Dom, have you been hearing any rumors about a nighttime mystery man walking around the community?”

Dom looked up at me and smiled somewhat sarcastically. “Come on Mark. Not you, too. Sure, I’ve heard some mention of the mystery man. Some guy goes out for a walk at night and car headlights reflect off his eyes and suddenly there’s a mystery that leads to confusion, then superstition and who knows where it goes from there. People afraid to go out at night, only going out in groups, maybe some of them armed. Let the police handle it.

“I had a face to face, private chat with Mr. Bellows during his gym class, yesterday. He sure is a recalcitrant rogue. He’ll be difficult and sensitive assignment but keep an eye on him. Don’t talk to him, yet, but check up on his attitude and grades with all his teachers once a week. More, if you have time. Take notes so we can discuss your findings.”

“Sure. I’ll be glad to do that. Do you really think that talking to him will do any good after he has had almost six years to solidify his bad attitudes? It would be like asking a rattlesnake to stop using its venom.”

“Connie came to see me one day and told me that Chucky’s dad, Mr. Bellows, was a NOVA superstar during high school. I got lost in thought about that and concluded that Chucky isn’t anywhere close to dumb. Stubborn, a bully and a hellion, maybe. I phoned his parents and, basically, they say he is incorrigible at home, too. He resents his father’s basketball fame because it’s always thrown in his face. ‘Why aren’t you like your dad?’ is something he hears over and over, from his friends and community adults. Also, I think his bad grades are in direct proportion to his bad attitudes. If we can improve his attitudes, I believe his grades with also improve.”

“Maybe you’re correct, Dom. You know, I live across the street from this school so I can see the playground and the outdoor basketball court. Almost every Saturday I see him playing basketball with his friends and neighbors. He’s a bit too physical, but he’s good, Dom. The kid has moves. If coach Haller could see him, Haller would start drooling.”

“Perfect.” Dom said loudly and excitedly. “I was hoping you’d see that. I was waiting to see if you could see some hope in him. His talent is wasted. His bad attitudes cause bad grades and bad attitudes, and bad grades keep him off the Junior Varsity basketball team. He wouldn’t be there more than a year, I bet, before coach Haller called him up to the varsity for spot duty, temporary replacement of an injured player, things like that. A year of that and he’d be a first-team varsity player. His confidence would zoom upward, his grades would improve more, and he may even become likeable.”

“You care to extend that same procedure onto Sally Parks,” Dom asked.

“Sally Parks? How would… Holy shit!” Mark exclaimed, then closed the office door. You are beyond cunning. You are sneaky cunning. Are you thinking that we might get Sally and her friends to start a sports cheering team? We have no cheering team for sports. Oh, my God! Do you think we even have a chance at that?”

“I do, Mark. I certainly do. Won’t be easy, but we must try, right? “Damn right,” Mark chuckled. “But the coaches don’t want him anywhere near the team. Too much trouble and not a team player they say.”

Two days later Chucky’s friends were lightly teasing him about the yellow-eyed stranger that Chucky claimed to have met one night. Much more harsh teasing was going on behind his back.

Whatever experience Chucky had with the yellow-eyed stranger may be the reason for his calmed bad behaviors. He even got a “B” grade on a History test. He was barely passing that class.

Two weeks later he passed a science test that he wasn’t expected to pass, to the surprise and happiness of his teacher.

The next day, with some mild intimidation and politeness from Dom, Chucky could practice with the basketball “practice squad.” Not be on the team. Just practice so Mr. Haller and the other coaches could evaluate him. He caused no trouble, was polite and showed his skills. Coach Haller admitted that his skills were good. He invited Chucky to try out for the Junior Varsity team next winter if his attitude and grades improved consistently.

There was a rumor going around that Coach Haller had talked to the yellow-eyed stranger as he was getting out of his car, in his driveway, at night. It was said that only the coaches knew about it, but I once heard that you can only keep a secret amongst three people if two of them are dead. But, if one of them is faking death, then the rumor can spread like lice.

Dom and I had several chats with Sally Parks, alone, then with her closest friends. We offered to help them if they helped us with improved attitudes, no pranks, and good grades.

“Your shitting me,” Sally said as everyone looked at her. She put her hand to her mouth, looked at Dom and I, then said, “Sorry.”

Her girlfriends followed suit and agreed.

Agreed to what? Being the new cheering team for the following school year. Sally would be the head cheer leader. They would get new uniforms and a cheerleading coach would be assigned for guidance.

The next day, several books about sports cheering teams were taken from the library and, from what we heard, the girls were already learning their cheering moves and dialogues.

During practice, Sally admitted to her friends that she had talked to the mystery, yellow-eyed man. She said she felt like she had been hypnotized, like a smoker gets hypnotized then given the suggestion to quit smoking.

To her surprise, all the other girls admitted to the same experience, but were afraid to admit it and getting teased or ridiculed.

I became the sole guide and motivator for both Chucky and Sally’s cheering team. We all talked once a week as their attitude changes led to much better grades and less classroom disturbances.

Dom’s focus was on the teachers and their improvement. The teachers were good, but Dom and I knew that good can be improved to particularly good, then to excellent. Dom set up a half day workshop, once a week for a teachers-helping-teachers group where the most experienced told and showed less experienced teachers how they taught and what materials they used to teach lessons. It was a hard sell to the Super – now I call him by that name – but they allowed it since it was already close to the end of the school year.

In the middle of June, the teachers, Connie, and I were shocked when Dom announced that he was leaving his job on a temporary leave of absence.

I was devastated. But several days of discussions make me see that he had something on his mind. I never did guess what it was, and he never said. The last I saw of him was June 21, the last day of school before summer vacation. That same day the Super wanted to see me. I went to his office and was told that I could have the principal of the elementary school job if I wanted it. Dom had highly

recommended me for the position.

It is summer vacation, and I am writing in my journal about this wonderful experience. I always think about it on my nightly walks, especially when the full moon lights my way and my eyes reflect the yellowish full moonlight. This special gift of mine is what helped me be such a successful teacher, winning the teacher of the year, and being the favorite of most parents. Now it will help me be a great principal.