Maggie and I are a team; at least we’re supposed to be. Maggie’s the sharp little smart board that was installed in my classroom this summer. I would have preferred a sighted and mobile model, but I don’t think they’ve invented those yet for regular classroom use. (When I suggested that to the AP class, they just said, “That would be creepy.”)
Maggie wasn’t cooperating at first this morning. I would click on a button; she would do nothing. When I wrote, she put the words some place else. At one point I looked at the class and said, “I don’t think Maggie’s a Christian.” To which one girl responded, “I think you just need to calibrate her.”
Calibrating is easy. It’s kind of like waving a wane and then hitting the center of 5 crosses that seemingly magically appear across the board. God probably wishes it were as easy to calibrate me as it is for me to calibrate Maggie.
Oh, Maggie, I think I’ll have other stories to tell about you this year.
When I left today, I noticed her wires were dangling down below her screen. She looked rather unkempt, kind of like being out of dress code. But, after all, it was only her first day.