RoboNomics

Chapter 23 - 2016

Henri walks around the side of my house, unveiling a platter of phyllo-wrapped savories. 

"Well, I've been canned," he announces as he sits down heavily on one of my dark wicker patio chairs.

"No," Elizabeth and I exclaim as one as we rise from our seats.

"You've gotta be joking," I add.

I haven't had a class or a classroom for a full school year now, but that doesn't mean I want to give up our trio's tradition. We sit on my patio after the last day of classes at Toronto School District. 

We've been doing it almost as long as I've been a teacher. The June day is usually sultry, the sun always stays in the sky long into the evening.

When Austin and I come out onto the patio it is usually to read, to dream to sounds of crickets humming in the bushes: that sound of high summer heat. When Henri, Elizabeth and I mark the passing of another year, the buzz of insects and the ticking of the neighbor's sprinkler all drowned out by our laughter. 

But this year is different. It's quiet. All we talk about is the arrival of that machine they called Teacher.

"Yup, it's true," Henri continues. 

He stuffs one of the cheese and spinach filled pastries into his mouth.

"I can't believe it," says Elizabeth.

Henri swallows. 

"That sounds like a platitude."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Oh, come on," he replies. "I told you when that...thing came into our school. If it weren't for this whole seniority thing, all the teachers would be gone by now. And wouldn't you know, no one at that school dares to question whether or not the machine's going to stay now."

"So they're adding more? Your classroom -- is that the next step in the project?" I ask.

"For now," Henri reaches for another hors d'oeuvre. "But next year, who knows?"

"So the pilot was a success," I mutter to myself. "What about your school, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth reaches for a wide-brimmed glass on the frosted glass table. She curls her long legs under her on the wicker couch, wrapping herself around the daiquiri before taking a sip. 

"I don't know, it all seems standard to me."

"But you've got new teachers there, haven't you?" Henri snaps. "You think it's 'standard' that they're gone now?"

"I didn't mean it that way. I only meant that's what's happening in every school," corrects Elizabeth, unmoved by his irritability.

"I'm sorry. I just don't understand how you could be so cold about this." 

The pair glare at each other.

"I'm really sorry, Henri," I say to interrupt their argument. 

He shrugs and pulls his FlexPhone from his pocket and begins to flick his fingers above its small screen, examining it with great interest. 

"I am, really," I add.

"Well, what can I do now? I guess I'll join you in waiting for the union to sort this shit out."

"Nothing's happened? Really?" Elizabeth asks. 

I nod. 

"So what are you doing?"

My stomach flips. What am I doing? 

"Well, I had that tutoring job, like I told you." 

This is the only part of my friendship with Elizabeth that I loath. The 'Andrea's okay so everything in my world is okay' talk. It was like what I would imagine giving a report to a parole officer would be like. 

"I went to a career center a while ago. That helped a little. And I'm still working with the Group." I try to make the last comment sound off-hand.

"That protest group?" Henri asks, his interest piqued.

"It's something to think about," I tell him. 

I've been going to the office now for seven months, between the trips to the career counselor, job fairs, tutoring. Miriam and I are still the only teachers but some more nurses and administrative assistants have joined in the meantime.

"Not this again, Andrea," says Elizabeth. "Don't you think you should be spending your time looking for another job?"

"Sure, mom," I say. "What do you think I've been doing? I just want to explore every avenue." I turn to Henri. "You know, you never really told me what happened after I left...with the I.I.U. project."

I hope the change of subject distracts Elizabeth.

"Well, I guess you know that no one's pressing charges."

"Yeah. I kind of figured that out when the police didn't come knocking on my door."

"Andrea, did you really not know who those people were? Those men who destroyed the bot?"

"Of course not!"

"So they weren't from your protest group?"

"No. I would tell you if they were. I guess they must have been some other anti-robot group."

She doesn't look convinced.

"Actually," Henri says. "The whole ordeal helped the school more than anything else did. We had this big assembly when the school got the new robot. The principals explained to the kids how fragile their new teacher was. So they left her alone after that, having seen her insides for themselves. And she raised test scores and now here I am, out of a job."

"Yeah, but it's not like she's good at actually teaching kids or anything," I insist. "It's not like she's sensitive to learners' needs. That's what our job was, right? Isn't that what they always told us we were supposed to do?"

"Well, the kids love her," Elizabeth blurts out. "And she wasn't bad. Maybe a bit wooden, but she did teach them things." 

Every school has the same model I.I.U. for the pilot project. Identical. I shudder to think about what would happen it the project moved forward. Every class in every school, all with the exact same teacher.

"Well, I guess she did something right or they wouldn't be getting rid of you," I say to Henri. 

I am startled by the bitter edge to my words.

"If you can raise scores, you're golden," he quips. "And I don't think this is the end. No one's safe anymore." 

He looks at Elizabeth, who examines her drink. 

"Not even you," he says to her. "You just remember this moment. This time next year there won't be anything for the union to save. We'll all be out of jobs."

(Continued in Chapter 24...)

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