On Thursday, a woman with a clipboard entered my classroom and began looking around and taking notes. I looked her in the eye and said, “Hello. Can I help you?” She said absolutely nothing and continued taking notes. I again looked her in the eye and said, “Hello. Can I help you?” Then she said, “We’re from school construction.” She took a photo of my ceiling, which I’ve recreated above. Then she took a photo of the room number over my door. Then she said, “We hope to fix this.” I thought, “For who?” I saw her later, through my window, photographing the courtyard where last spring my students planted a vegetable garden. I suppose we’ll lose that space too.

On Thursday, a woman with a clipboard entered my classroom and began looking around and taking notes. I looked her in the eye and said, “Hello. Can I help you?” She said absolutely nothing and continued taking notes. I again looked her in the eye and said, “Hello. Can I help you?” Then she said, “We’re from school construction.” She took a photo of my ceiling, which I’ve recreated above. Then she took a photo of the room number over my door. Then she said, “We hope to fix this.” I thought, “For who?” I saw her later, through my window, photographing the courtyard where last spring my students planted a vegetable garden. I suppose we’ll lose that space too.