One Rainy Day in the Life of a California Public School Teacher

Standing in the doorway, I watch the rain pour down. The gutter has come loose again, and a waterfall gushes right outside my classroom door. If it weren’t for the eave overhead, I would be drenched now, completely at the mercy of the water forming puddles on the uneven concrete.  I stand outside in the rain because 60 years ago when this school was built in Northern California, someone had the bright idea of long banks of classrooms joined by covered walkways exposed to the elements.

The door to my classroom has recently begun to stick a little when opening, and I know that this means the screws at the bottom of the door are coming loose.  I am an expert because this has happened two times in the past.  Soon the door will either refuse to open or close – whichever action comes at the moment when the screws give way. Then I will be forced to call the district maintenance guys again, and they will put wood putty in the holes and re-screw the door.  This will solve the problem for a couple more years before the whole process will have to be repeated.  Just like the gutter that streams waterfalls outside my door.

            Last year the maintenance guys spent days welding the gutter seams together as if their puny efforts could hold against the pressure of water pushing against the steel.  The welds held last winter when we got only 37% of our normal rainfall, but this year the rains have already fallen long and hard. Nature is winning.

            Standing in the doorway, I can see that the enormous puddle in the middle of the courtyard is growing.  In the 22 years I have taught at this school, after each storm the water pools.  Long ago the drains filled with roots from the bottlebrush tree that grows there. Every year when the water rises, unwary students slosh through it – sometimes above their ankles – until they learn to find a detour around it. I tell them we call this Lake Rizzo.

This year the leaks in the walkway roof are getting worse and it is harder to pass from one hallway to another without getting wet – without a stray drop down the back of my neck or in my eye. 

And it is all this that makes this day seem almost unbearable.  I might find the pressures of trying to teach in a beleaguered public school system more tolerable if I could walk down the hallway or stand at the door to greet my students and stay dry.

This piece was original published at Story Circle Network’s One Woman’s Day blog

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