The Golden Apple

I got an award this week.  It's called the Golden Apple. I'd like to tell you about it, but first I'd like to tell you about my not so distinguished, and not very stellar award winning history.  It seems that each honor, though appreciated by me, carried a bit of a stigma on its back.  Read and you'll see what I mean...

My first encounter with prestigious awards came in 1969, while I was still elementary school age.  I was a school safety.  I don't remember the countless deeds I performed as a safety, but I remember that the faculty advisor was not a pleasant person, and quite frankly, scared me to death. She taught sixth grade.  Across the hall from her room was the art room.  The only time I was sent into the hall for punishment was that year when the art teacher had had enough of my talking and giggling in class.  I remember being so afraid that Mrs. Krauss would come out of her room and see me standing there.  Every time I heard her door open, I turned my head so she'd see the back of it.  Well, I didn't get caught and got my ill-gotten award....

In 1970, when I was in seventh grade and middle school age, students had to collect all their notes, tests, and handouts, and arrange them in a notebook, in a specific way, with a clever theme.  I remember that the grade had been recorded as a check++ on the title page, but the second + was in a different color ink, most likely changed after a teacher's second appraisal.  I remember how shaky and sweaty I was when the award was being given wondering if that second + meant that my name would be called, and how light-headed I felt as it was.  I remember how proud the other 157 recipients of the award and I felt as we shared the moment and the audience applauded... 

By the time ninth grade rolled around, it was common knowledge in the school, in the community, and in the family that I had absolutely no athletic ability.  I wanted to be involved somehow, and a friend of mine suggested that I be a team manager.  I remember organizing and carrying equipment and keeping score.  Soon I had the honor of being a non-athlete with an athletic award and a varsity letter for baseball!  Another ill-gotten award!  They got the last laugh, though...my name was misspelled on the certificate.  Go figure......

I spent all my free time in my senior year of high school in the library.  I helped organize the periodical section and distribute magazines to students who had properly completed the request.  I worked hard and was so happy to receive this award from the librarian on Awards Night.  A few years later, I saw her in the Mall and ran over to her and gave her a big hug.  I was so happy!  She looked at me with a blank stare.  She didn't remember who I was.  I told her my name and reminded her of the work we did together and she still didn't remember.  I was crushed...

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Fast forward to the first day of school each year as an educator.  Each year in the District, the entire staff from all the buildings assembles for eloquent, welcoming speeches from the Superintendent, the School Board President, and the Education Association President; and each year Building Principals and the Administration award a handful of what they call 'Golden Apples' to staff members whose nomination and review of that nomination result in eligibility.

It goes without saying that after a great summer, it is difficult to muster the desire to return to the grind.  In the beginning days of my time in the District, I kept it in my brain and suffered in silence.  Now, with Social Media, I have a way to express my anxiety and suffer out loud.  It's what a curmudgeon does!  With the summer of 2014 being my most fulfilling in years with day trips to state parks, a mini-vacation to the Jersey shore, an abundance of visits from the kids and grandkids, and an exploration of the history of my family; I can honestly say that when the day before the Staff's opening assembly in the third week in August arrived, I was not ready to go back to school.  So, I posted a status:  I don't wanna go back to school!  I really didn't!

I got up at my usual time on the magic morning.  I had hoped that something would make me want to mask the misery, but it wasn't to be.  After quite a few minutes of threatening to go to the school unshaven and disheveled, and after a few unsympathetic stares from my wife Jackie, I caved in and cleaned up.  She is between jobs right now, so when it was time for me to leave, she was at home, in the bed, in her pajamas, and doing a Sudoku on her Ipod.  Little did I know at that moment that she was masking something too!  

Golden Apple awards had already been presented to a community volunteer in the district, and three deserving teachers, including one of our own in the Elementary School. Our building principal rose to the podium and told the crowd that he was presenting two awards that morning.  He then proceeded to ask the audience to compare the pair to other great 'couples' in Entertainment history such as Ozzie and Harriet, Regis and Kelly, and Abbott and Costello.

Then Amy, the Reading Specialist, who is my immediate supervisor, replaced the Principal at the microphone and continued the discussion of couples.  I appreciated all her observations, even if I didn't agree with all of them.  She began describing my coworker Lisanne and I.  She said you never think of  one of us without thinking of the other.  Joe and Lisanne, Lisanne and Joe, That's the way it is.

She began by telling the audience that I am THE man...really...the only one in the OES Reading Department and warned the crowd not to get me started on how difficult my day is working with so many women. This is true.  It's hell on Earth!  It's a tough job but someone's gotta do it!  When the girl talk and antics get to me, I just tune it all out.  I raised four kids, you know, and I can tune out anything!  

She talked about how Lisanne, my coworker and co-recipient, is quick at everything.  This is an understatement.  Usually I have responded to a statement or question from Lisanne, only to find out that she left the office in the two and a half seconds between the time she made the statement or asked the question and my response! The beginning of what was a discussion or an answered question quickly became a frustrating and embarrassing monologue by me to no one!  

Amy revealed to my district wide coworkers that I always put our computer's memory stick in the same place except when I accidentally put it in my pocket and take it home.  I concur that this is true.  Then she spoke of tabloid fodder, saying that I do a Friday Happy Dance.  This is not true.  There is no video and no substantial evidence that I have ever danced, however briefly, in the office.

She marveled at Lisanne's ability to talk in code.  This is true.  Most times I can't figure what the heck she is talking about.  Then Amy talked about the snacks.  I literally gain five to ten pounds during the school year and lose it again in the summer.  I have actually stopped going for my annual physical near my birthday in February, and now go in September, before the snacks begin pouring in and the pounds begin pouring on!.

It's true that we are both obsessed with words, and have a mammoth dictionary fondly known as 'the Beast'; that we both like to search for typos in whatever we read; and that we both love to teach. Amy also included some adjectives to describe us: hard working, funny, compassionate, flexible, reliable...instinctive, I hope!

As it was revealed that Lisanne and I would be called to the front, my neighbor, who sat next to me, said that I was 'beige', and my coworker, who sat on the other side of me said that I cowered in my seat.  I felt lightheaded.  When it was time, I walked to the stage; collected my award; and greeted the Superintendent, the Principal, Amy, and Lisanne.  I went to the microphone and, being a man of few spoken words, blurted, "Well, this is embarrassing!"  and then said a few more words that I don't remember, and Lisanne went to the microphone after me and said, "Ditto what he said!"  Then we were greeted by our spouses.  My little sneak had known about what would happen on that day for awhile.  She played it well and, when I finally left the house, got out of bed and prettied up in record time to be there.

Are you sure it was meant for me?  It's not ill-gotten, is it?  When a late career actor or actress is in the running for an award, he or she is the sentimental favorite.  He or she could get an award just because he or she is old, and they want to catch him or her before he or she...you know! 

Are you sure it was meant for me?  Could it be that, though I started in the Reading Department in the year 2000, I first walked the halls of that school in 1990 with my oldest son, and never left?  Could it be that the path worn in the hall was worn by me during my time as a parent, a volunteer, a cafeteria aide, and a member of the Reading Department?

Are you sure it was meant for me?  I work with so many folks I admire.  Any of them could have been called to the podium for their contributions to the children in our district.  Were they okay with the outcome?  So many of them have offered kind words.  I am blessed to be in their company.

The shaking stopped the next day.  It had sunken in.  There was no stigma.  It was perfect.  I am humbled. 

This week I got annoying around the house and got those wifely stares from you know who. I thought that fetching the Golden Apple and holding it in front of me would remind her of my new commanding of respect. 
It still looks like an improvement in my behavior, and not the Apple, will make my days better at home.

At school, the students have returned.  The routine is back.  The Apple was yesterday.  The gratitude is ongoing.  It's feels stellar and distinguished because it celebrates a job that I love to do! The successes and frustrations, the ease and difficulty, the silliness and restraint, the discipline and compassion, Joe and Lisanne, Lisanne and Joe, all the women, the Beast, the absence of happy dancing, and everything and everyone in the Elementary School...it's all back, it's all good, and I'm ready...