Critical absence

It was a disaster of the greatest magnitude.

After lunch, I was getting my classroom desk organized when I noticed that something was missing. To my utter horror, I realized that my attendance seating plans were absent.

These critical pieces of paper had the names of all the students who attend my classes, and they also identify where the students sit in the room. This system is a vital part of my teaching process, since it streamlines the attendance process. Instead of calling out their names and waiting for them to respond, which can take up precious minutes (especially when the other students begin to talk, requiring me to shout the names repeatedly), I merely have to check which desks are missing students and after cross-referencing with my seating plans, I can quickly identify who is absent. And what makes it particularly efficient is that I can do this process while they are working on a problem or discussing an issue, which means that no time is lost at all.

And it was missing from my desk!

As quick as a flicked switch, I went from namaste peace to apocalyptic panic. I searched every nook and cranny of my desk, leaving no stapler unturned, and I rifled through every folder and drawer. But it was nowhere to be found.

I raced over to my other filing cabinet and I got out my magnifying glass, peering into every crevice and investigating every file that came my way. Nothing.

Then, with all self-respect lost (maybe it was located in the same location as my seating plans), I then rummaged through the garbage can, scanning all pieces of paper – after scraping off banana peels and other organic material, of course. But to my shock, it was nowhere to be found.

I was an absolute wreck by this time. I wanted to call in the Canadian Security Intelligence Service (admittedly, I had to look this up – it is the Canadian version of the FBI), the local police, the RCMP, the firefighters, and my school administration. I wanted to demand a forensic analysis of my classroom scene, where they could gather fingerprints and identify any foreign substances that might suggest a possible perpetrator. I was aware that my own personal investigation likely tampered with much of the evidence, but there was still hope, right?

In the end, I was completely unsuccessful in my search and I had to go home in failure. It is a wonder that I got any sleep that night, so terrible was this educational tragedy.

When I returned to school, I had renewed optimism and I was bursting with energy. I also had new ideas. There was one place I did not check. I had a box at the back of the room which contained any old assignments that students did not yet pick up. I had remembered that I had in fact deposited some homework into that box the day before, so there was a good chance.

When I opened that box and analyzed the first few documents, I finally discovered it. The seating plans!!!! Right there, nestled amongst many other papers, safely ensconced, was my Holy Grail.

I could have screamed out in delight!! It was the greatest moment of my life – well, apart from getting married, having children, riding my bikes … okay, it was in the top 100 anyways.

I brought it back to my desk, apologizing to it for my neglect and for indifferently tossing it into the unwanted bin. I vowed that I would be much more vigilant, treating it with the respect that it deserves. My mind was certainly absent, causing this unfortunate crisis, but this seating plan is my most cherished present.