The hall’s floors were buffed to an antiseptic tidiness. You would never see them look that way again. The first day of school had a magic about it. It was an excitement that couldn’t be contained by the students or staff. As the buses unloaded, we wondered what the year would bring: would we have that special moment, a break out event, something that would define the year?

We stood by our doors greeting each new student. Some kids high-fived us. Others said hello and took a seat. The ones who said nothing concerned me the most. What were their thoughts? Did they dislike school, the class…or was it me?

New sneakers squeaked on the polished floors. It became a game of sorts, to see who could squeak the loudest. Some of the teen girls showed off new jeans by walking slowly down the row of desks, as if on a fashion runway. The boys were very interested int he attractive girls. Some who didn’t have new clothes or shoes just watched. One girl longingly watched the events and then put her head down. The bell interrupted the chaos, and kids grabbed chairs next to their friends.

My introduction was brief. “Welcome to drama class. I’m Mr. Price, and let me congratulate you on being in my class.”

Comments quickly met me. “I didn’t sign up for this class, I was dumped in here.” A few others nodded in agreement. “My dad told me to take it because it sounded like an easy ‘A.’

I wasn’t doing too well at this point, and the girl in the back of the room still had her head down. The comments continued. “No way am I getting up in front of the class. You might as well give me an ‘E.’

I grabbed the class list and began to murder students’ names. Oh, how I longed for a Smith or Jones. Laughter followed my mispronunciations as the name was repeated by other kids. Still chatter filled the classroom. “When is lunch? Can we eat in here? My sister said she would eat in here all the time.”

“Your sister ate all the time, and that’s why we called her balloon buns.”

I was losing them already. A cell phone rang to the sound of Slim Shady, and the girl with blonde hair in row one answered. I continued reading the attendance sheet and looked at my watch. An eternity had passed, and we were only twenty minutes into the hour. I finished five more names before getting interrupted by the crackling of the P.A. system. “May I have your attention? May I have your attention? All students who do not have a schedule are to report to the gymnasium.”

I continued again, this time with more determination than ever. I grasped the computer sheet, cleared my throat and blasted out the next name. “Susan Smith?” It was a moral victory. I felt proud. I repeated the name. The girl with her head down barely raised her hand. We had made a connection.

My thoughts were interrupted by the passing bell. Susan Smith was the first one out the door. I had learned a student’s name and was ready for second period.