Mrs. Sander’s Classroom
We, as in my colleagues and I, knock on Julie Sander’s classroom door and she motions us to come in. As we walk into her classroom we are immediately engulfed in this terrible smell I can only describe as perspiration and puberty. We walk to a corner of the room facing the smart board, behind all the students, and to the left of Mrs. Sanders. Some 9th graders look at us but turn back in fear due to the upper-class advantage we have over them. Or I’d like to think they turned back due to how beautiful my group was and they didn’t want to make a fool of themselves. The room is filled with the putrid smell, frigid air, and cheering and booing from the students so engulfed in the game the class is playing, they