Post by henry on Jul 17, 2011 15:29:32 GMT -6
HENRY CALEB BAKER
FULL NAME: Henry Caleb Baker
BIRTHDATE: August 8, 1975
AGE: 36
SUBJECT: English (British Literature if possible, though any literature or English course would work.)
YEARS TEACHING: Ten
YEARS AT BLACKWOOD: Two
HEALTH CONDITIONS: Healthy, though he does have a bad knee, and it troubles him sometimes. When stressed, he smokes, but only if Beatrice isn't around to see it. He occasionally drinks, but never too much. The last time he went on a binge was shortly after Naomi died, and when he did, he was whipped back into shape by his sister, Lizzy, for it.
ADDITIONAL: Henry is a widower, and a single father of a three year old little girl. His wife dying is what led to him leaving the UK and coming to America. (Also: I am sorry for being so long-winded in some parts. I just wanted to get everything about his character out, so that he'll be easier to use and so that there aren't any problems later. If I need to fix anything, please just tell me, and I'll do it!)
“Why did you decide to go into teaching?”
"I suppose it was the natural thing to do," he said, shrugging a bit. "My mother taught me how to read and write before I even started primary school. I always did well in subjects involving literature, but I wasn't confident enough in my skills as a writer to be a novelist or poet. Teaching a subject I loved seemed like the next best option, and so I got a doctorate in English Literature, and became a teacher."
“What can you offer the school?”
Smirking, Henry adjusted his coat. "Do the children here have a good grasp of literature? The English language? I highly doubt it, considering what passes for a language in America now. I can teach them how to write, to read a book and actually absorb what the author intended. I must admit that I also have had some trouble in my past, and so I believe that I may be able to help them get out of their troubles."
“Why do you want to work with troubled youth?”
Shrugging a bit again, he paused to think about his answer. "I don't know if there is a reason, at least that I can explain. I like helping people. Growing up with a surgeon for a father and a poet for a mother taught me one thing, at least, and that was that people are more than what they seem. No matter what it is, their troubles may be worse than what you can see. If one takes enough time, you may find a whole new side to someone."
“How long have you been teaching? What subjects have you taught? Where was the last place you taught?”
"Ah, finally, an easy question. I have been teaching for about ten years now. I teach English and Literature, as I always have. The last place I taught was a school for boys in London, called St. John's School for Boys."
“How do you project yourself to students? How do you think your coworkers will see you? How do you see yourself?”
"I try to project myself as a figure of guidance and help for my students. I want them to be comfortable around me, and to feel like they can ask me for help if they need it. As for my coworkers, I am courteous to them, though I don't know all of them as well as I'd like. Perhaps. I'm sure some of them and I would not get on." Pausing, he cleared his throat a bit. "Though, my sister, Lizzy, says I'm posh. I disagree, but I may not be the best judge. One rarely likes to think badly of themselves. I suppose that I could be considered cold. I prefer solitude with my books, or spending time with my daughter, to social events... Though, I will admit that I won't turn down an invitation to go to a pub, as long as I can find a babysitter for Beatrice."
“What is the worst decision you have made during your teaching career?”
"I don't think I've made many bad decisions as a teacher. I will admit that I turned down some offers for work at schools that would have paid far better than St. John's, but I was set on that school. It was a school for underprivileged boys, and working with them was more rewarding than any other school could have been. But... I will admit that I wasn't as good as a teacher as I could have been. I could have been more of a mentor, and less of an instructor. I didn't help those boys as well as I could have, and that is my only regret so far as a teacher. Hopefully I won't have many more."
“Tell me a little about your life before coming to B.A.D.”
Taking a drink of water, he paused for a moment to think. "I was born to John and Mary Baker on August 8 of 1975. My father was a surgeon, and my mother a poet. They'd been trying for a child for a while, but had trouble. Naturally, they were excited to finally have a child. Two years after I was born, they had another child, my sister, Elizabeth. She and I were close, and still are, though we do tease each other often." Taking another drink, he thought for a moment, deciding what he wanted to say about his life so far.
"My childhood was happy, to say the least. My parents cared for my sister and I very deeply, and took very good care of us. We were never mistreated. My father wasn't home as much as any of us would have liked. His hours at the hospital kept him busy, and so Mother would often end up caring for us on her own, without much help from him. Mother was a poet, and very proud of it. As a young child, I remember being taught to read. By the time I was in primary school, I could read and write well above others in my age group. I was well known throughout my school years for being the one to go to if you needed help in a literature course. It was a bit irritating, how other students would end up mocking me sometimes because I had more knowledge in that subject. As a teenager, I began acting out, to get back at others for the reputation I'd been given. I was not an easy person to get on with. My mother was very unhappy."
With a soft sigh, he paused yet again, fidgeting and moving his fingers around the top of his bottle of water. "I straightened myself out after my father had an accident. He was hit by a car... He could have died. If he had, he would have died, disappointed in the man that I was becoming, in the son that I was. I was determined to be the child he deserved. I got my grades back up to an acceptable place, and worked hard. Eventually, I got into a good university. Mum and Dad were so happy. I went away, to study, and worked hard. I was an adult now, and I had to prove myself. I did. I graduated, and shortly after got offered several jobs, having graduated with honors. I had worked hard. Then, I accepted the job at St. John's. I, um... While I was in school, I met a woman. She was in my history class... Her name was Naomi. We flirted a bit, at first, at a party a mutual friend had. After meeting up a few times, I asked her out on a date. She agreed. And, after about a year of dating, I asked her to marry me. We were still university students, so we didn't have a big wedding. We just got our families and close friends, and had a small ceremony. We moved into a flat together, barely getting by at first, as I worked nights at a pub while going to school in the morning, and she sold her artwork and waited tables at a restaurant."
Twisting open the cap of the water, his hand twitched nervously, nearly imperceptible to someone who didn't know him. "Naomi and I... It was difficult, the first few years. School, work, finances... Between everything, we were rarely together, and when we were, we tended to fight. I suppose we were lucky that we were both so stubborn. After graduating, things started getting easier. Now that we just had our jobs, we had more time to spend together. I was a new teacher at St. John's. She was an assistant animator for a children's show. We were still busy. Both of our jobs took a lot of time up... But we were happier. We decided to wait to have children until we were more stable. Our parents protested, but Naomi and I refused to change our minds. Things were easy, for a few years. When we were in our early thirties, we decided to start trying for a child. It was only three years ago that we finally succeeded. When our beautiful little girl... My precious Beatrice... I've never been able to decide if the day I married Naomi, or the day Beatrice was born was the best day of my life."
A miserable look came into his eyes, and he took a deep breath. "Beatrice was about six months old when the accident occurred. We'd been driving home from my parent's house, after Sunday dinner. A man was driving drunk, and slammed his car into ours. Naomi died instantly..." Rubbing his knee, he closed his eyes for a moment, willing away the images that came flashing to his mind. "Beatrice, luckily, was all right. She was behind me, and we were hit right where Naomi was sitting... I ended up with knee problems as a result of the accident. Beatrice had some minor cuts on her face from broken glass, nothing major. But Naomi... Naomi died. As soon as I could, I filed paperwork to move to America. I lined up a job here, and went through the proper processes. We got through blessedly fast. I couldn't stay in London any longer. I couldn't stay in the United Kingdom. I needed somewhere new, somewhere that wouldn't remind me of my wife. I quit my job at St. John's. The boys seemed sad to see me go, but I had to leave. And now I'm here. That is the story of my life."
ALIAS: Emily
HOW DID YOU FIND US? I saw your on an ad on They Live In You.
CODE WORD: unicorn
PLAY-BY: Benedict Cumberbatch