Copy Paper Drama

Any other high school out there suffer from copy paper drama?

At my first school, IS 111 (now defunct), you needed to horde copy paper. Teachers ordered a box of copy paper to be delivered from Staples to the school, locked it in their classroom locker, and only brought what they needed to the copy room. If there were copy paper in the machine, you could remove it from the machine (to keep from being accused of stealing it), place yours into the machine with an exaggerated gesture so that any teachers who were pretending not to look at you would know that you were using YOUR OWN paper, and make copies. Then, you would (again, largely) take your copies, take any remaining sheets of your paper out, replace any paper that the machine previously held, and go back to your classroom.

When I arrived at Cobble Hill, I was thrilled that we just had paper. It was like I had died and gone to heaven.

Of course, that changed.

My last year teaching, our Assistant Principal of Organization (APO), Costas, a kind, loving, socialist Greek man who had a temper and a yell that lived in contradiction to his inner softie, guarded the school’s copy paper supply like a rabid dog. It was locked in a closet near his office with only two keys. You had to beg, borrow, steal, bribe, cajole, whine, scream, or cry to get any paper. And we did. Ohhhhhh, we did. The whole lot of us.

At the end of the year someone had left a graphic novel on Greek Mythology around the teacher’s lounge. I found it and made this beauty. Sorry for the crappy picture–my at-home printer is being wonky about scanning. I’ll type it out for you:


Top Panel:

In the square: The teachers successfully broke into Costa’s little closet on the 2nd floor & stole all this letter-sized copy paper.

In the conversation bubble: “HA! we got all the paper! I’m going to copy my butt one hundred times for fun! That’ll show Costas!” (arrow pointing to men on the boat yelling that says: Teachers Escaping)


Bottom Panel:

(Arrow pointing to bearded man with mane of hair that says COSTAS–an accurate image of Costas after he spends every August in Greece)

Costas’ conversation bubbles: “You paper wasters! Use the Smartboards! Use the textbooks! Save the tress! (bubble 1) You think you’re so smart, but I won’t renew the copier contracts! (bubble 2) What will you do with your paper then? Ha ha ha! (bubble 3)”

in the square: But because of Costa’s curse, it would be many long years and many adventures before the teachers at Cobble could make copies.

I made this with utmost care, cracking up at how hilarious I was, and xeroxed many copies of it and put it in everyone’s mailbox. Costas allegedly had his feelings a little bit hurt, but it was June, everyone with giddy in anticipation of summer, and it passed. When I was at Cobble a couple of weeks ago to represent my community college at their college fair, I saw a copy of it still hanging behind his desk. Love that guy–even if he is a paper horder.

And, for the first time this week, no paper at my college. Sigh…Here we go again.