More Than Words - Jerry Cole Page 0,3
allow more than one choral response per class. He needed to know that students understood what was being done, and he needed to keep them each accountable.
“Which means it’s already been explained at least once before.”
Jimmy was one of the quieter boys in the class, but Jordan had seen him make great strides in confidence in the last four months.
“Exactly. How many of you were absent when I went over the requirements initially?”
He already knew the answer to the question — three students had been absent on the day he had distributed the task and gone over the requirements — but he liked to challenge them to be honest with themselves as well as with him, and this was one of the ways he did that. Three hands went up, and Jordan smiled. He had definitely made some strides this year and it pleased him.
“If you three need to see me for further clarification, you know where to find me. Don’t leave today without coming by to talk to me. Deal?”
Three heads nodded, and he smiled. “Good. Now, let’s get down to business.”
By the end of the day, Jordan was tired. No matter how little he exerted himself over the Christmas break, he was always exhausted on his first days back as though he had been working hard doing manual labor all during the break. He cleaned his Smart board, locked up his storage closets, and packed his bag before turning to leave. He had a class in a few hours at the college, and though it was only going to be preliminary stuff, he was already dreading it. College freshmen were difficult to teach because most thought they knew it all, and figured they could handle any math that was thrown at them. And those who weren’t so supremely confident were so math-phobic, it’d be like pulling teeth to get them to engage and learn.
He bought dinner to go and made his way to the college campus, parking in his usual spot close to the building where the office he shared was located. He had copies of the syllabus he’d be distributing, as well as of the first in-class assessment with which he began each semester’s freshman course. Taking his backpack and his dinner in, he rode the elevator to the third floor and strode down the hall to his office. His officemate was just leaving.
“You got the night shift this semester, eh?” the young woman said.
“Yeah, for my sins.”
She laughed. “Take care, and be kind to the kids this semester.”
Jordan rolled his eyes. “Why? They’re never kind to me.”
They shared another laugh before she made her way around the corner to the elevator. Jordan closed the office door, opened the window, and opened the aluminum container with his breakfast-for-dinner meal. He savored the varying flavors…the crispy honeyed bacon, the runny eggs, the pancakes. He finished his coffee, threw out the bags and settled back to enjoy the fruit cup he’d bought for dessert.
His cellphone rang. “Hello?”
“Hey, Jay! Happy back-to-school day!”
Jordan grimaced. “Bite your tongue, Mac! It’s been a long day and it ain’t over yet. Are you guys back already?” He’d thought they had a longer honeymoon planned.
“Not quite yet,” Mac replied, “but I didn’t want to miss this. It’s been our thing for years.”
Jordan’s chest tightened with emotion. Chandler McKenzie-Tucker, whom he called Mac, had become his friend since they’d first met in his math class during Mac’s sophomore year in college. Something about the younger man had called to Jordan’s protective spirit, especially after his parents had died and he’d become his younger siblings’ legal guardian. Mac had made a place for Jordan in his life and in his family because he knew they were kindred spirits.
“Thanks, buddy. I appreciate it. Now get off the phone and go hug on your man!” He loved the contented chuckle that greeted his words as Mac hung up.
His class went as expected. After the round of introductions and the syllabus review, Jordan settled the students down with a preliminary diagnostic test and once he collected it, he gave them homework and sent them home. Knowing he had planning for his day job to do when he got home, he graded the tests and recorded the results before finally packing up and leaving.
It was well past nine when he got home, and as he trudged past the stairs that led to the second floor of his apartment, he could hear his landlady’s dogs next door. He’d go over and take