Chapter One

She pushed her wiry, gray hair behind her ears and breathed a repressed sigh of relief. Three. Two. One. Ring. As the final bell rang Ms. Plain pushed back from her desk and walked to the blackboard at the front of Room 307. As she faced the now empty classroom, the classroom where she taught 20 reluctant students AP Language and Composition, she could do nothing to suppress the sudden urge to dance. And so, in her plain yellow blouse and brown sweater, she threw down her canvas bag and began to twirl. Twirl. Twirl. Twirl. Twirl. And all just because she felt the sudden urge. It was as if the 40 something woman was a 20 something girl. And it's not that she looked 40. She had a youthful glow. Yes she was beautiful; beautiful and odd. Ms. Plain wore the same outfit to school everyday. A plain yellow blouse, a pair of pearl earrings, a brown sweater, a khaki shirt and a pair of kitten heels. Every day. And that is no joke. You see, the odd part about Ms. Plain was that regardless of her name, she exhibited the most peculiar behavior high school students had ever seen. Ms. Plane was a complex woman, indeed.





Chapter Two

“Class, I want you all to close your books, get up, and sit on your desks. Then I want you to write about the experience.” Ms. Plain had hardly gotten the words out of her mouth when she was greeted with a steady bombardment of groaning. Instantly, an unfamiliar hand shot up.
“Ms. Plain?” A tiny voice sheepishly teetered from the middle of the classroom.
“I don't think our bottoms were meant for the top of the desk.”
Although the girl had meant to be helpful, as if her teacher had never encountered a desk before, several of her classmates tittered at the comment as if it had been meant as an insult.
“And who said that, Ms. Wade?”
The girl turned bright red, a color that Ms. Plain appreciated much more as a wallpaper than as a shade of embarrassment.
“Regina, don't blush. All I meant to say is who decided that the seat portion of the desk is meant for our bottoms and the top is intended for our books? Is there an expert of such a subject?”
Regina Wade considered the question, “Well, no ma'am, I guess not.”
Ms. Plain smiled, and for those of you who don't know, Ms. Plain is a genuine smiler.
“Then let's see your perspective on the matter. In no less than 3 paragraphs.”





Chapter Three
“And then she asked me if there was an expert on the subject of bottoms and books!” Regina Wade was a shy girl of 16. She lived with her mother and father in a small house in a barely middle class neighborhood. The only reason her parents had been able to send her to such a prestigious school as Lynn Charter School for the Artistically Talented was because she was an only child. That, and because she was considered the only child from her middle school who could draw (Let it be noted that Ms. Wade was not extremely talented). Regina Wade was attending Lynn Charter on a scholarship. This scholarship required her to take advanced placement courses such as Ms. Plain's AP Language and Composition.
“Honey, give it time. She's never had you before, and trust me she has a lot on her plate ever sin-”
“John, that's enough. Let's talk about art. How is your landscape coming along?” As Regina began to revel in her latest (although trivial) artistic achievement, her parents exchanged an anxious look. Too much was riding on junior year for Regina to have anything to worry about.





Chapter Four
“I'm sitting on my desk. It's really dumb. The room is cold and it's Monday. Shoot me.” Ms. Plain pretended not to or didn't notice at all.
“Thank you, David. That was very insightful but not quite 3 paragraphs. You'll have to rewrite the assignment.” David glared but Ms. Plain continued.
“I think I'll read mine. If that's okay with you guys?” Ms. Plain looked eagerly to her class but received no response other than the shifting of weight and coughing.
“I am sitting on my desk. It's bigger than yours. Does that mean something? Not on the surface but perhaps you could interpret it as my life compared to yours. My desk is bigger because I have lived many more years than you. My desk is more cluttered than yours because of my many life experiences so far. I'm sitting on my desk looking out at you. I see many different faces in front of me and I see that everybody is experiencing a different emotions, emotions that I have experienced in my past and emotions that I hope to experience in my future.” With that, Ms. Plain's eyes welled up, unbeknownst to her class except for a small group of students in the front of the room.
“I'm sorry guys, it's just sometimes I get so deep into my writi-” Ring.
“Vocab test tomorrow. I won't be here but I'm making sure the substitute gives it to you!”





Chapter Five

A slightly thinner and seemingly more stylish Ms. Plain walked into the classroom beaming from ear to ear. Her students were pleased with her new, shorter hairstyle and all round changed exterior.
“Ms. Plain, I love your haircut!”
“You look so vintage chic!”
“I want to cut my hair like that!”
Ms. Plain put her hand up as if to begrudgingly silence the compliments.
“Thank you, girls. It wasn't really a choice but it does make me look different.”
Ms. Plain ran her fingers through her hair as she was trying to put it up. She couldn't which made her smile awkwardly.
“What do you mean Ms. Plain?”
“About what, Molly?”
“About not having a choice.”
Ms. Plain hesitated, “Ah, choice, that brings me to our lesson.” She walked to the blackboard and began writing.
Be miserable. Or motivate yourself. Whatever has to be done, it's always your choice. - Wayne Dryer
“What does this mean to you?” The teacher asked her class.
Her class contemplated:
“I think it means that you have to create your own happiness in any situation that life throws at you.”
“Maybe it means that you are your own motivation.”
“We're miserable without motivation?”
Ms. Plain smiled although this time, her smile was only ¾ of a smile.
“Excellent, I see your brains are working. Here's your next question: Is it better to plan a decision or to make a spontaneous choice?”
“I think it depends, Ms. Plain. Some things in life take long, drawn out decisions, decisions which we sometimes regret even after we've made them, but other times, I mean for some people, life throws a wrench in the way of things and the only kind of choices left to make are the spontaneous ones.”
Ms. Plain smiled again. Now only ½ of a smile. But she was proud.
“Precisely.”





Chapter Six

“Regina, did you finish your homework?” Regina's mother probed.
“No, mom, I can't. My writing assignment is really difficult.” Regina frowned. Writing, opposed to art, came easily to her.
“Well what's the assignment, honey?”
“We have to argue making planned decisions v. spontaneous decisions.”
“Well, Regina, that sounds like a simple assignment for you, what's the trouble?”
“That is the trouble, mom! It's too simple. I feel like there's a harder question that needs to be answered.” Mrs. Wade frowned now as well.
“Regina, you'll find the answer. And if you don't, Ms. Plain will answer it for you.”
Regina smiled, “You're right, mom. She always does.”





Chapter Seven

The next day it was announced over the loudspeaker that Ms. Plain was resigning as the AP Language and Composition teacher. She would not even come in to say goodbye. As her class filed in, curious albeit silent, a single student couldn't contain herself.
“What could make her do this?”
Regina didn't understand. Ms. Plain came in everyday in her same, dull outfit with her wiry, gray hair. She exhibited odd behavior and assigned even odder assignments and just as Regina was beginning to get it, she left. Vanished. Gone.
The principal of Lynn Charter School for the Artistically Talented walked into Room 307.
“Ms. Plain has been diagnosed with terminal cancer. She is living comfortably at home with her family because she has only been given a short time to live. Anyone who needs to talk to someone about this can leave now and go to the Guidance Counselor. For the rest of you, she has instructed me to hand out this paper. The Principal handed every student a single, plain white sheet of paper.
Dear class,

Last week I asked you to answer this question:
Is it better to plan a decision or to make a spontaneous one?
Like I did last week, I want to give you my perspective.

Ever since I was a little girl, I dreamed of being an English teacher. I tried my best in school, went to college, got a degree, and have been teaching for 20 years. I planned that life for myself and it was one of the best decisions of my life. But 6 months ago, during the summer, I was diagnosed with cancer. The doctors told me last week that it is terminal. That means that this cancer will kill me. Which means that there has been a timer placed on my life. And in that moment when the doctor told me I had less than a year to live, I could have decided to give up. I would have made the spontaneous decision to let go and give in, but I did not. I decided to live the rest of my life as I have planned. You have obviously noticed that this year, I always wear the same outfit. That's because it's my favorite. Also, some of you who may have peeked in after school have caught me dancing. Don't lie, Molly, I heard you laughing. But it's because I love to dance. I've also been giving you outlandish assignments which some of you attribute to my personality, however, I just wanted to give you a new perspective on life. Life is so short, treasure it. Regina, that's what I meant about sitting on top of your desk, you see everything from a different perspective. And sometimes, to truly live, you need to see life from every angle, to appreciate what you've been given. I leave you with this,you are young gifted children, you have time, which is precious, to make planned and spontaneous decisions. Choose wisely.
God bless and goodbye,
Ms. Plain