Writing about Mr. Bob reminded me of my first observation from Mrs. Oola. Although it was satisfactory, she didn't have much good to say. Even back then, new to the department (not new to teaching) I knew I had to do something or the rest of my tenure at Packemin was not going to be easy.
I listened to her comments during our post observation conference and then asked if I could observe her since she was teaching the same prep during one of my free periods. She stammered a little but had to say yes, after all, she was the master teacher, the one hired to make us all better teachers. I knew the class she was teaching was a difficult group and making her as uncomfortable as possible was my goal. I told her I looked forward to learning from her and meeting again after the observation.
Several days later, unannounced, I walked in and sat in the back. I brought a big yellow pad and as she taught, I wrote. Every time she looked at me, my head and pen went down. Mostly I was doodling, but she didn't know that. I watched the little beads of sweat forming over her eye brows and laughed inside. When the bell rang, I thanked her and left. I told her I looked forward to discussing the lesson with her.
Long story short, the post observation conference never happened. Mrs. Oola never brought up the class and neither did I. She also never had a negative word to say to me again.