Wearing a faded brown pantsuit hemmed above ankles, colorful socks that didn’t match and worn blue loafers, 70-year-old Ms. Bozzlebee sidestepped passersby as she made her way down a crowded hall to a last-period social studies class on the first day of school. A stranger to the herd of students swarming the corridor, the elder held her tattered satchel against her chest. Stay on your feet, she told herself after a jabbing elbow jolted her sideways.
After entering the classroom and placing her satchel on the desk, Ms. Bozzlebee wrote her name on the board, then turned to speak. “Welcome to the start of a new school year. My name is Ms. Bozzlebee. I’m a last-minute fill-in. Your class is the only one I’ll be teaching,” she announced as she stepped behind the teacher’s chair.
When four of the five students in the class continued their chatter without bothering to look her way, Ms. Bozzlebee spoke with gentle honesty. “My somewhat mild manner sometimes prompts others to mistakenly conclude their regard isn’t important to me.”
The first student to turn Ms. Bozzlebee’s way was an antsy fellow, Morty, who disliked unexpected changes. “You’re not a permanent sub, right?” he asked.
“I hope to be here for the duration of the school year,” answered Ms. Bozzlebee.
“What kind of name is Bozzlebee—something from clown town?” flippantly joked a girl, Karry, who fancied herself to be the class ringleader.
Seeing that two other smirking students—pupils also seated near Karry—found the putdown amusing didn’t keep Ms. Bozzlebee from being pleasant. “My name does have a comical ring to it,” she calmly conceded before glancing to the rear corner of the room in order to nod at a boy, Sten, who seemed somewhat attached.
“They must have told you that we’re all prodigies. You know what a prodigy is, right?” asked Karry
“I do,” answered Ms. Bozzlebee. “Though your IQ is likely much higher than mine, I’ll strive to challenge you,” she politely promised.
Lang—girl ready to jump at the chance to correct someone, chimed in. “You shouldn’t have said that. We would have assumed they got someone who also had a high IQ.”
Another girl in the class, Clarel, was quick to assume the teacher was bias. “I bet you’re one of those people who think being creative is superior to being intelligent,” she grumbled before turning to classmates to share a putdown. “Ms. Bozzlebee probably fancies herself to be a hoity-toity artist.”
Again, Ms. Bozzlebee was courteous. “I don’t have artistic skill. . . . Regarding what I value, I expect that will show through in time,” she replied.
“Looks to me like she doesn’t have a reason to think she’s better than anyone,” muttered Lang, pretending she didn’t want to be heard by the teacher.
“So, what’s the topic of the boring lecture we’re about to hear?” asked a frowning Karry.
“Karry’s princess pouty,” ribbed Clarel, letting a bit of jealousy show.
“I have a kick-off task for everyone. It’s an opportunity for you to gauge and goose your potential,” announced Ms. Bozzlebee.
Lang goaded Ms. Bozzlebee by poking fun at the teacher’s answer. “Oh, boy, Ms. Bozzlebee’s going to show us how to gauge and goose ourselves.”
Unflustered, Ms. Bozzlebee elaborated as she pulled a small stack of papers from her satchel. “The opportunity I mentioned is a final exam I’d like you all to take this period.”
“An exam on the first day doesn’t make sense, never mind a final exam!” fretted Morty.
“She’s just showing us she’s got a weird sense of humor. She wouldn’t dare do something so bizarre,” said Karry with a snicker.
“I’m not joking,” said Ms. Bozzlebee as she passed out the exam. “As you can see, there’s only one item,” she noted before reading the lone task out loud: “Please discuss making niceness, defined as being kind and fair, a regular school subject taught yearly—kindergarten through college.”
“What’s that have to do with social studies?” griped Clarel.
“Shouldn’t studying social studies involve exploring good ways to be social?” replied Ms. Bozzlebee.
“Being nice is something people pick up along the way,” further contended Clarel.
“If that’s your position, use logic to explain why a new ology, called niceology, shouldn’t be routinely taught. Everyone has the remainder of the period to complete the assignment,” noted Ms. Bozzlebee.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” said a baffled Morty.
“I am,” assured Ms. Bozzlebee.
A blunt Lang didn’t hold back. “Giving a final exam the first day is out of whack, and the assignment you’ve given us is wacky. . . . You’re making trouble for yourself!” she claimed.
“Lang likes to remind everyone her dad is a big shot on the school board,” noted Morty, before asking something that worried him. “You’re not grading the exam, right?”
“I’ll be grading everyone’s effort,” answered Ms. Bozzlebee.
Morty continued to worry. “We’ll get to finish tonight for homework, then pass it in tomorrow, right?” he asked.
“Because I want you to identify your here-and-now benchmark reasoning, this isn’t a take home exam, ” answered Ms. Bozzlebee.
Karry strongly objected. “But you haven’t taught us anything yet!”
“Though not what you’re used to, learning is, in fact, underway. Does anyone else have a concern?” asked Ms. Bozzlebee before checking with the boy who’d been sitting silent in the back of the room. “Do you have a comment, Sten?”
While considered to be the school whiz kid, Sten was also known for being extremely introverted. So, the other students weren’t surprised when he shook his head no, then looked down.
Somewhat sympathetic to Sten’s reticence, Morty offered Ms. Bozzlebee an explanation of Sten’s circumstance. “Sten is the school brainiac. It’s hard to fit in when you’re super bright.”
Karry was quick to contradict Morty. “Being disabled by shyness makes you the weirdest, not the brightest!” she mocked.
“Keep in mind we’re self-judging beings,” recommended Ms. Bozzlebee.
“How’s that supposed to help Sten?” asked Lang.
Anxious to have the students begin the exam, Ms. Bozzlebee briefly, but tactfully, answered in a way she hoped would be thought-provoking for all. “That no one can escape seeing her- or himself be nice or not nice is worth pondering,” she noted before checking the wall clock. “It’s time to begin the task. The points you make can be listed or given in an essay.”
After entering the classroom the next day, Ms. Bozzlebee found the three girls who had ganged up on her the day before slouching in front row seats with arms folded. A few desks behind them, Morty nervously tapped fingertips on his desktop as he gazed out the window. Sten, meanwhile, was, once again, in a rear seat with his head bowed.
Predicting somewhat of a backlash after students saw their grades, Ms. Bozzlebee commented as she returned the exams. “I’d like to discuss how I arrived at your grades.”
After receiving her grade, Clarel sneered while turning to Karry and Lang. “I got my first D ever. Good thing it’s also my last D,” she boldly declared before looking up at the teacher. “Can we read what we wrote out loud, Ms. Bozzlebeetle?” she asked, snidely mispronouncing the teacher’s name.
Ms. Bozzlebee was again cordial. “Yes, doing so will help us discuss how to improve. . . . By the way, my name is Bozzlebee, not Bozzlebeetle.”
“So, you’re a bee, not a beetle,” teased Clarel, prompting the other girls to chuckle.
“You’d rather be a bumblebee than a ladybug, right, Ms. Bozzlebee?” further slighted Karry as the laughter continued.
Ms. Bozzlebee was, yet again, amiable. “Is it possible that the grades I’ve given justify, for some, continuing to see my name as a fair-game source of amusement?”
Uncomfortable with the teacher’s question, Clarel hastily introduced and read what she’d written. “Here’s my fantastically astute answer to the exam question,” she bragged: “Trying to make kids too nice, which is what I think you’re up to, Ms. Bozzlebee, will only make it harder for them to get ahead. Honest adults admit that niceness can get in the way of succeeding in life. So, most assuredly, your niceology course is a stupendously stupid suggestion!”
Ms. Bozzlebee’s response was pleasant and sincere. “Thanks for getting us started, Clarel. I suggest expanding on why niceness sometimes makes getting ahead hard. I’m also interested in hearing more about how adults impact the way kids perceive being kind and fair,” added the teacher before turning to the others. “Who’d like to go next?” she asked.
I carried on about how unfair it was not to give us something to memorize before we took the final exam. . . . Anyway, I also got my first D. My parents are going to go bananas when they find out!” he fussed.
“Your assumption is correct, Morty. Though focusing on the pursuit of fairness was noteworthy, you could have better linked it to the task at hand,” offered Ms. Bozzlebee. “By the way, a gave you all a final exam. I never said it was the final exam.”
“So, you were tricking us!” complained Clarel.
“That’s reasonable to claim. However, rather than trying to be a trickster, I was trying to be a provoker. If you recall, I suggested the exam was a benchmark. . . . Nonetheless, to be up in arms is a good thing. Protesting is a handy way to begin exploration, is it not?”
Morty began to catch on. “You’re saying getting bent out of shape can be a good thing,” he noted.
“If it’s used as a liftoff to learning,” explained Ms. Bozzlebee.
“So, it’s a that we’ll be retaking,” assumed Morty.
“You can take it as often as you like,” said Ms. Bozzlebee. “Learning should be more than memorizing a bunch of answers,” she pointed out.
Karry wasn’t buying into what was being said. “I got a D for saying niceology sounds like trite fairytale hooey.”
Ms. Bozzlebee had a different explanation. “You got a D for not defending your opinion with sound critical thinking.”
“Here’s some critical thinking for you,” began a testy Karry. “People with good memories, like the kids in this class, get important jobs. We become doctors, lawyers, bankers and CEOs! The knowledge we’re able to store in our brains makes the world go round. . . . Like wearing socks that don’t match, being nice just makes a person someone easy to poke fun at,” she declared.
“Such reasoning is worth exploring further,” replied Ms. Bozzlebee.
Lang sat up, then spoke with scorn. “I got a D for saying what I’ve heard my father say: Being nice, especially in the business world, is for wimps and chumps!”
Ms. Bozzlebee was straightforward, but encouraging. “Like the others students, your first attempt lacked a clear premise and an in-depth analysis. I’m looking forward to seeing all of you apply logic to the stands you’ve taken.”
Snarling, Lang stiffened, then spoke angrily. “You better find something else to look forward to!”
Caught off guard by the apparent threat, Ms. Bozzlebee fell still as she watched Lang, Karry and Clarel look each other’s way while giggling. They know something I’ll soon know, privately concluded the teacher.
Lang continued her contempt. “Like it or not, nice doesn’t count for much. Like Karry said, when it comes to the kids in this room, what counts is what we can cram into our noggins. It’s our grades and our college entrance exam scores that matter, not nitwit niceness!”
Also showing disdain, Karry piled on. “You can be sure college admission committees don’t give a hoot about how nice we are . . . . When I told my mom about your exam, she said there’s no point in preparing kids for life on a planet that doesn’t exist.”
Turning toward Karry and lowering her voice in a halfhearted attempt to speak secretly, Clarel brazenly name-called. “Get real Bozzle-boo-boo-bee.”
A second later, Lang sent another smug warning Ms. Bozzlebee’s way. “You can’t do and say ninny stuff, like wear mismatched socks and babble on about niceness without paying a price!”
Ms. Bozzlebee was unable to brush aside the trio’s disrespect. After standing speechless for an awkward few seconds, she gulped as she turned to Sten. “Would you like to read what you wrote, Sten?” she asked.
Though Sten wanted to defend Ms. Bozzlebee, he was unable to overcome the sense of panic that struck whenever faced with an opportunity to speak in front of others. After briefly looking toward the teacher, he again dropped his head.
“He agrees with us,” declared Lang; “he’s just too bashful to say so.”
Turning to his left, Morty tried to draw Sten out. “I’m interested in what you wrote, Sten.”
After briefly glancing Morty’s way, Sten again silently wilted.
Stay composed, Ms. Bozzlebee told herself before sharing what she believed to be at stake. “We can’t stop evaluating ourselves. . . . I know you’ve all been told again and again how important it is to impress others with knowledge. I also know how hard it is to hear me suggest niceness is worth your time and attention. . . . Consider this: The grades that matters are the ones we give ourselves day in and day out.”
The girls didn’t let up. They gave each other a prompting grin, then again opened fire on Ms. Bozzelbee.
“You have no idea how goofy what you just said sounds,” began Lang.
Karry glared at the teacher. “When I told my father about you, he called you a pathetic Piep Piper—someone trying to lure kids with a silly tune.”
Scowling at the teacher, Clarel was the harshest. “My mother says people, like you, are dumb-fanny dangerous! The students in this room don’t want you as a teacher!”
Then, something very unexpected happened: The three girls, Morty and Ms. Bozzlebee had their attention abruptly snatched by the sight of Sten standing behind his desk.
“I have something to say,” meekly, but solemnly, stated Sten before pausing to take several deep breaths while scanning the room.
The other students watched in amazement as the student thought to be a hampered genius spoke.
Ready to say more, Sten looked toward Ms. Bozzlebee. “I’d like the grade on my exam to be changed to an F,” he announced. Pivoting to make eye contact with his classmates as he continued. “I’m ashamed of myself for not standing up for Ms. Bozzlebee.”
Not only taken aback by who was speaking but also by what was being said, the other students sat silent.
After taking another chest-expanding calming breath, Sten again spoke directly to Ms. Boozlebee. “That the students in this class are afraid of not being able to finagle the A grade we’re used to getting with our so-called intelligence doesn’t justify the lack of humanity we’ve shown you,” he noted before once more turning to his classmates.
Unsure what to anticipate, the other students braced themselves.
Sten was again soft-spoken, but candid. “Thanks to Ms. Bozzlebee, I intend to strive to find the courage needed to appreciate being nice. . . . There’s something in short supply—something truly smart kids want to possess. . . . That something is the humility needed to take kindness and fairness seriously!” he concluded, just before the bell rang ending the period.
Ms. Bozzlebee sent a thankful smile Sten’s way.
After the room cleared, Ms. Bozzlebee spotted the principal’s secretary, Gail, in the doorway. Gail had been sent to bring the teacher to the principal’s office.
After seeing Ms. Bozzlebee pause in her doorway, the principal, Mrs. Drail, who was sitting at her desk, addressed the teacher. “I have some unfortunate news. Please sit.”
The teacher shuffled to the chair across from the principal, then sat.
After an uncomfortable moment of silence, Mrs. Drail spoke with regret. “The powers that be have overruled my decision to hire you. Based on the concerns conveyed to me, it sounds like you did what you told me you intended to do—something I strongly support. Unfortunately, certain powerful people want to pamper rather than challenge students. As far as I’m concerned, letting you go is our loss. I apologize for how things turned out.”
Ms. Bozzlebee readily nodded her acceptance of the decision. I’m sorry I let us both down. I wish I had produced swaying rather than crashing waves. . . . Please tell Sten Corby his niceness will remain with me.”
Mrs. Drail stood and offered a pleasant goodbye. “I’ll do as you ask. . . . I wish you well, Ms. Bozzlebee.”
Half way to the door, Ms. Bozzlebee turned with an afterthought. “I hope my replacement has a dull name and matching socks.”
1. Why is or isn’t giving a final exam on the first day a good idea?
2. Discuss the advantages of giving all students an opportunity to do poorly in a school course.
3. Ms. Bozzlebee said the following: “The grade that matters most is the one we give ourselves day in and day out.” What did she mean?
4. Sten came to believe humility was important and in short supply. Explain why you agree or disagree with him.
5. “Discuss making niceness, defined as being kind and fair, a regular school subject.