Kid: “My mom and dad are voting for Trump!”
Me: “Cool! That’s their right!”
And then I flunked him.
Category Archives: Kids/Teaching
The Perils of Dating a Teacher
These are the kinds of stories you will hear if you make the mistake of asking your teacher significant other how her day is going.
Kudos to Eric for perfecting the art of pretending to care. He really did ask some stellar follow-up questions.
Multiple Choice Strategy
A kid hands in his state test (multiple choice) with two answers circled for one question.
Me: “You can only choose one answer for each question.”
Kid: “Well, I know but I couldn’t decide between B and C. So I’m just going to do both.”
Me: “You can’t do both. If you choose both, it’s automatically wrong.”
Kid: “Ok.”
(Does nothing)
Me: “Please choose one answer.”
Kid: “No thank you. I’ll take my chances.”
I’m not sure you understand how chances work.
Kid: “You have a very nice chin, Miss Emily. It points out just right.”
Me: “Aw, thank you!”
It’s fake.
Sometimes I Wish She Listened Less
Therapist: “So do you feel relieved now that you finally gave your boss notice that you’re quitting your job?”
Me: “Oh my god, YES. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m anxious about the upcoming change. And it’s bittersweet. And I’m really going to miss being with my coworkers every day, several of whom are my closest friends. But I’m also excited, and know it’s the right thing. But more than anything I’m just really proud of myself. Usually, if I’m in a situation that’s comfortable, it takes me forever to get out of it, even when I know it’s what I need to do. But this time, I knew in like December that I needed out, and by February, I made the decision and did it.”
Therapist: “Right! (pause) Well..2010.”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Therapist: “You knew in December, 2010.”
Me: “Well, I mean, I didn’t really know then.”
Therapist (flipping through her notes): “December 6, 2010– ‘I need to quit my job. I’m unhappy in the system. I don’t feel fulfilled. I feel like if I stay one more year, I’m going to go insane.”
Me: “Right but that was just venting– I didn’t like KNOW know.”
Therapist (still quoting): “‘I know this with every fiber of my being.'”
Me: “Oh.”
Alright well I did it so BACK THE FUCK OFF.
They’re for my daily PB & J lunch, but I guess I’ve made it pretty clear how miserable the state tests are making me.
Also if I go to jail the jean couch is coming with me. Obviously.
Tales From the State Test
Dear NYC Department of Education,
You’re probably looking at this photo and thinking “Hmmm, what am I looking at here?”
Well I’ll tell you what you’re looking at.
This is a picture of a GIANT FUCKING COCKROACH, roughly the size of my man-handed fist, trapped underneath a book bin, then secured with a chair. This massive fella decided to show himself in the middle of the NY state test today, casually sauntering across the library floor like he owned the place, causing two of my 4th graders to jump out of their chairs, and, subsequently, the entire room to start screaming bloody murder.
As the only adult in the room, I had to act quickly and maturely. This consisted of me screaming “EVERYBODY STAY CALM!!!!!!” like a batshit psycho, while darting across the room to the shelves, grabbing the nearest book bin, dumping out the entirety of its contents onto a table where 4 kids were test-taking, holding my breath, and trying to retrace the life choices that had lead me to this exact moment in time, so that I could undo them.
Once I trapped it beneath the bin, I put a chair on top of it, just in case that motherfucker decided to try something funny. Trust no one, DOE.
After the chair was secured and I had both swallowed the vomit in my throat and wiped the tears from my eyes, the kids were asked to sit for another hour, alongside the cockroach, and finish their exams.
So that’s why everyone failed.
Love,
Miss Emily
“Sorry I didn’t wish you a happy birthday yesterday. I was just really busy.”
— student, age 10
You’re HERE!
As I’m rifling through my work bag looking for a pencil during my tutoring session, the kid spots my pile of student-made birthday cards.
Kid: “Wait a minute– is it your birthday?!”
Me: “Yes it is!”
Kid (adorably overexcited): “Oh my gosh!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
Me: “Thank you!”
Kid: “I can’t believe it’s your birthday and you’re HERE. In MY apartment! Tutoring ME!”
Yeah I guess that is pretty sad.
One of my favorite moments as a teacher is when my most irresponsible, lost-in-the-sauce, never-paying-attention-to-a-word-I-say student comes to school wearing his Harvard sweatshirt.
Aim high, brotha!
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