Many Watching Eyes

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M.D. Roberts GA Histories class: They excel in every category.

Teacher: Ms. Waldo has wonderful speaking skills. She is extremely technology savvy. The children seem to respect her and her knowledge of Georgia.

Students: The children understand the curriculum. The teacher assigned group work and most are staying on topic. These 8th graders made no unnecessary speech.

Student responses-
Lexi: “We are studying the geographical features of Georgia and learning how to recognize them.”

Grace: “Our worksheet includes charts about the land forms, soils, economical activities, and much more for each region. For example, the Piedmont region has red clay, so we would put that under Piedmont and go over until the soil box.”
**Adolescents understand standard and elements.

“Austyn, why are you here?” demands the tech-savvy 8th grade social studies instructor.

Two heads immediately pop up from their work. The first head was seated toward the middle of the room with clipped brown hair and misty green eyes that pierced your body; this is Grace. She studied the front of the room where the interrupter, a tall dark haired boy with a slight country air to him tried to justify his reason for barging into Ms. Waldo’s classroom.

The second head, Lexi, was content on watching Grace with slight amusement mixed with a pinch of pity. Lexi’s work was harshly tossed aside like an old toy as the light brown eyes searched for excitement in this minuscule disruption.

Grace follows the front of the room’s conversation with a faraway expression. She attempted to work by picking up her writing utensil but tragically failed, letting the lead pencil drop softly to the ground without any indication she noticed. The sea-green eyes continued to watch.

In the back of the class, Lexi taps a curly hair girl beside her. Confused she looks up and Lexi smiles and explains the situation with hushed tones. They laugh and point discreetly, “Can’t you just picture her face right now?” Lexi asked, demonstrating a loving look. Another fit of giggles erupted from the two.

“Yeah, I know,” agrees the friend, “She’s hanging on to every word. Grace!” a quiet whisper floats to the middle of the class, almost missing its target. Slowly, the love-sick girl shakes her fantasy of castles and princes long enough to answer.

“Whaa-?”

“Au-ustyn,” they mouth his name in unison, milking the six letter word painfully. A series of raised eyebrows, knowing smiles, and false hair flips sent Grace into a flurry of embarrassment.

“Shut up!” the red cheeked girl complained with a sheepish smile.

Lexi and her friend decide to try and continue their forgotten work, but not as diligently. They stole frequent glances to the middle of the class to see if she was still stuck in a trance. Grace, on the other hand, is taking quick peeks at her crush. She looks back to see if the other two are still watching her. Eye contact is made between the three girls; Curly Hair raises the corners of her mouth slowly in a silent laugh. Grace giggles and looks toward the front just in time to spot her crush clicking the heavy classroom door shut; Her shoulder’s sag with obvious disappointment.

Curly Hair whispered Grace’s name once more, when she got her attention, she placed her hands over her heart and mimicked fainting.

“Zara!” Grace called with exasperation and turned around tol start her work again.

The trio went back to the class worksheet at hand without any sign of communication with one another.


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“I think I have all I need, Ms. Waldo,” the county official stood up, brushing her perfect pencil skirt with certain precision. “Thank you.” She got up from her seat beside me as I watched the official with wonder. Soon, my wonder transformed into laughter as I heard the door close softly. That was her survey? All she needed was a slight interruption or ‘minuscule,’ as she called it, to make a story in order to pass the time in this uninteresting Georgia History class.





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