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A man in a women's world: my husband is one of that rare breed—male elementary school teachers. And among a host of admiring female teachers, he's really starting to fit in - End of the Day

Instructor,  Nov-Dec, 2003  by Mary Valle

An entire genre has been built around the premise that men + children = hilarity. Witness Three Men and a Baby, Kindergarten Cop, and Daddy Day Care. Men just don't know what to do! It isn't in their genes! Men are all big and clumsy and little people stymie the heck out of them!

Except that it isn't true. I am married to the Wizard of Children. My husband teaches elementary school. Everywhere I go, women tell me: "Your husband is faaaabulous!" "He's so patient!" "We love Mr. Valle!"

Day after day, Josh dons his drab green Patagonia battle suit and wades into the sticky world of little people. His workplace contains bins of gigantic pencils, crayons, wood blocks, and dominoes. While I type and chat all day, Josh is taking care of a million different little needs at once. It boggles my mind. I would be completely at a loss in such a situation.

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In his world, I'm a useless consort, a drone, a drag-footed Mr. Thatcher or Prince Philip lingering behind while he is mobbed with children and parents. But while he is in his element with his small students, his unique position as a man in a female profession is where the real comedy is created. "I have a signature color," says my husband, one day after coming home from work.

"Really? What is it?"

"This kind of mossy green," he says, gesturing over his body, which is clad in a variety of moss-green tones, offset with the occasional slate gray.

"Oh, yeah, totally," I say. "You've always loved that color."

"I didn't know that. But a group of ladies were in the office after school looking at some sweater online and Linda said, 'Josh, that's your signature color.' I didn't know I had one!"

I smile knowingly.

[GRAPHIC OMITTED]

When Josh recently had to attend an education conference, everyone got a child-decorated puzzle-piece brooch. Except for Josh, who received a specially prepared "man gift;" a bookmark. When the women on staff go out for their lunches, Josh is there, nodding silently. "Yes," he might chime in, periodically. "I can't believe she wore those pants."

When parents want to give him a Christmas gift or end-of-the-year token, most are completely dumfounded as to what to get. Because he's a man! Some will ask around, nervously, about what he likes. Someone's grandmother once stealthily approached him on the playground and pressed 20 dollars, cash, into his hand. "Don't say thanks," she whispered, before disappearing. "I was a teacher, once, too."

Now that we are going to have a baby, I hear much of "Josh is going to be such a great dad!" And it's true!

Here's the best part: Since I have a strange allergy to showers where I am the showeree, I've been doing my best to fend off any such gatherings on my behalf. Frankly, I'd rather wait until the baby is born so she can take the spotlight.

But Josh is going to have to take the heat on this one, too. Yes, he's going to be showered at school. He recalled hearing a story about a shower for another male teacher; the poor showeree had to be coached about proper shower performance. He didn't know that you're not supposed to just open all the gifts willy-nilly. You have to hold each item up and let everyone ooh and aah. You can't go too fast or too slow.

"That'll be you," I say, giggling. "You know, I could always come, too, and do the honors."

"No, no," he says, brave and forth-right as always. "That's OK. It's just part of the job."

Mary Valle is a writer living in Baltimore. She has written for Salon.com, Esquire, and the Los Angeles Times.

COPYRIGHT 2003 Scholastic, Inc.
COPYRIGHT 2004 Gale Group