How I fell out of teaching

About 6 years ago I worked at a school in New Jersey. For the first two years that I worked there I taught 9th grade, but 12th grade was what I really loved. The school as huge. It took me at least 15 minutes to walk from the 11-12 wing to the 9-10 wing, if I was walking fast. My third year I started teaching 12th grade, so because of the distance factor it was like having a new job, new kids, new colleagues, and a completely different working environment. I even had a new boss, or in teacher terms...principal, Joe.
In about November or December (I totally forget) there was a message from the principal to "see him" on the sign in sheet, ALL of my colleagues saw this. Furthermore, NO ONE was called in to the principal's office, unless you were screwed or some shit hit the fan. I had no clue what I did. I was sweating, embarassed, and downright nervous. I mean I said a lot of contraversial crap to my students to initiate discussion, that was my deal, but they knew that. What could I possible have done? At the time I was grading journals, so when I walked in to the office I was attempting to balance about 30 journals on top of my teaching materials. I must have looked like such an ass.
When I went into his office my old principal from the 9-10 wing was also present. I really started freaking out. It felt like the walls were closing in. My cheeks felt like they were burning. In high school I never got caught, so I never had to go to O'Brien, my principal's, office. Well...maybe once for smoking, but whatever. All I gotta say is even as an adult two principals in one office, scary. I thought I was getting fired. The presence of the two of them also immediately put me into defense mode.
They had this amazing lead up. Actually the two of them seemed nervous. It was all, "blah, blah, blah...and the other principal, who was a lady by the way, is here because I thought a lady should be present." What? Then, they proceeded to tell me that two teachers and students complained that I smelled. Parents called. My first reaction was to laugh. I mean I thought I was getting fired. Smell? Now that is a new one. I asked them if they could smell me. They said, "Well, no". OK.
Everything after that was kind of blurry. I awkwardly grabbed my journals and walked to the teacher's lounge. At some point I started to panic and called my mom. Mom was confused. Normally, I do not call her from work. Oh, and I was crying. Not only was I crying, but it was those tears that you cannot help. I could not force them down or away. She told me to calm down. I was not making sense. In fact, smell? The woman thought I was crazy. "Get out of there" she said. "Drive." Irrationally, I went back to the principal's office. I felt ashamed, mortified, and confused. I told them if there was a problem it would be rectified. I actually said that. I told him I have great respect for myself, that I am clean. I really friggin said that. Ugh.
Before I left the school I went to a friend's classroom room. She and I shared a classroom for one period a day. I told her what happened, still crying. Afterwards there was silence. She had this strange look on her face. I wanted to back away, run as fast as I could away from her and that place. She said that sometimes I smelled like hoagies. Perhaps it was because I was so close to the Italian Market. Betrayal. Maybe I smelled? What the fuck? I went to her because she was my friend. I trusted her.
I went to CVS and bought spray, deodorant, and some nasty crappy lotion. Oh, and I was crying. I called Erik and told him what happened. He was confused. I was going to keep driving, not go back, ever. I could not go back there and stand in front of those kids. He told me to stay, keep me head high. No, I did not smell. He'd know, but maybe he didn't? The rest of the day was hell, a mixture of shame and paranoia, combined with peach melba sprays.
At the end of the day I went to Blue Mercury. I told the saleswoman that my boss said that I smelled. She could not smell me. She said I smelled fine. I bought Fresh brown sugar everything, even the deodorant. Usually spending an exboritant amount on fun beauty products is fun. Not this time. (to be continued)