It’s a part of Providence that Cedric has never seen, and he looks intently out of the bus’s scratched, cloudy window. Everything they pass is gray, from the dirty mounds of frozen snow to the steely clouds in a murky sky to the people—white and then, increasingly, black—who scuffle along, their faces obscured by wraparound scarves or tightly tied hoods as they try to get somewhere before the cold gets them. Ten minutes on, after a dozen turns, he wraps his fingers around the bar of the seat ahead and pulls himself up straight to get a better look out of the wide front windshield. That must be it, he surmises, spotting a sorry-looking box of red brick with white limestone archways and ledges: Slater Junior High School. It’s February 6 at ten of eight, a forbiddingly cold day with a stiff dawn wind that seems to have kept the sun from rising on the first day of Cedric’s Fieldwork and Seminar in High School Education course. Arrangements have already been made by the seminar’s professor for an undergraduate to attend classes here two mornings a week, so there are only a few formalities at the first-floor principal’s office before Cedric can go to the classroom he’ll be observing on the school’s second floor.
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