Attack of the Student Hairdressers

When my two eldest girls went off to college, I began to look for a part-time job. Through the grapevine, I heard of an opening for a part-time substitute teacher at a high school near home. I applied and was hired right away. What great good luck, I thought. Not only could I help pay my daughters’ tuition, but the job would be a nice transition back into the workplace after 20 years as a homemaker.

“Do you think you can handle these kids?” the principal had said at my interview, eyeing me with suspicion. “Certainly,” I said. “What is the course?”

“It’s called Beauty Culture, or something like that,” he said vaguely. “It’s a vocational course for” — he paused for a second — “selected students.” They were to be prepared for careers as hairdressers. I would teach the science background, the anatomy and physiology, while an experienced beautician would teach the hands-on work: how to wash, set and perm hair, etc.

“Is there a course outline?” I asked.

“Well, no, but I think there’s a book somewhere,” he said, beginning to rummage through his desk and finally handing me a thick textbook. I leafed through it. The first chapter dealt with the brain and the cranial nerves. I would have to brush up to keep one page ahead of my students. School was starting in two weeks, I suddenly realized.

It’s then that I like to imagine my students as successful hairdressers, working wonders with their blow dryers and curling irons, reaping the rewards of the high school’s vocational program.

Eileen Valinoti is a retired nurse who is at work on a collection of short stories.

A version of this article appears in print on March 1, 2015, on page BU8 of the New York edition with the headline: Attack of the Student Hairdressers. Order Reprints| Today’s Paper|Subscribe

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