Bulletin Boards

I hate bulletin boards. The worst part of getting my classroom ready for the new school year is covering them. I used to feel great pressure to be creative and decorative, like my elementary school teacher friends. Now I don’t even cover the brown cork with any paper. I don’t use any colorful border. I don’t use any of those cool letter cut-outs to place encouraging or clever quotes on the board. No word wall. No calendar. Just the information I’m required to post: emergency procedures, the school mission statement, my contact information, the bell schedule.

I have four bulletin boards in my room. On the one that covers the length of a whole wall I have student work posted. It’s the best and easiest way to cover the several feet of blank space. The one in the front of the room has announcements clumsily thumb-tacked to it. The two smaller bulletin boards in the back corner, where Reese, Hank, and Heidi sit, I’ve neglected. They are mostly empty, except for scraps of encouraging notes written by students maybe three years ago, a picture of my sons from even further back than that, and some inspirational quote that is no longer inspiring because it is not read. 

Last week in second period we were discussing Machiavelli’s “The Morals of the Prince.” We had only about five minutes left in class. “So, do we see Machiavellian principles in leadership now? And is it--” 

I was interrupted by a thud. In the back corner of the classroom, there sat Reese, the bulletin board dangling by one screw behind him. Part of the board had fallen on top of his blond head. As all eyes turned on him, the other smaller bulletin board fell on Heidi, who sat nearby. In the middle of the two was Hank, who had been grazed by both falling boards. 

“Are you all okay?” I asked the three kids under the corkboard avalanche. They assured me they were, so I proceeded. “Okay, guys and gals, let’s look at this question again. Where do we see Machiavellian ideas at work today?” I asked this as I grabbed the bulletin board from off of Heidi’s back and put it on a nearby table. Reese was rubbing his head. Lundin was laughing. Cara was trying not to laugh. Colton was suggesting ways he could fix the now swinging bulletin board if he only had the right tools. Shelby was trying to make sure Heidi was okay. 

I was trying to teach. 

“Guys, so a couple of bulletin boards fell and hit three students. So what? Everyone is fine. Let’s talk about Machiavelli. Do we ever see leaders who are more concerned with their own rule or power than the well-being of his people? Where do we see that?”

No one said anything, but I'm sure they all had an answer.