Me: “I hope that what you’re drawing on that post-it is related to the math lesson.”
Kid: “It is!”
To the kid who had the audacity to fall asleep in the middle of our lesson–
I get it.
-Miss Emily
I would like to thank our super tan and relaxed-looking principal for reminding us at our after-school staff meeting today that “if you have the means, you should all REALLY take winter vacations as an opportunity to go somewhere warm and remote, like I just did.”
Yeah, we don’t.
We don’t have the means.
We’re teachers.
Now can we go write the report cards that you just informed us are due tomorrow?
Great.
Thanks.

The only people more miserable than teachers the last night of a school vacation are the significant others of teachers.
NOTHING YOU’RE SAYING IS HELPING!!!!!!

(I love you.)
The exact moment you get so fed up with work bullshit that you TRULY stop giving a fuck will be the exact moment your principal comes and observes a lesson that goes so scarily well, she asks if you paid your students to sound so intelligent and insightful.
What. Is. Happening?!?!
It’s good to know that here in NYC, you can literally be infamous for serving feces and still receive an above-average rating.
As a teacher and giver of grades, I feel pretty confident saying that Chipotle does not deserve a B right now.
I’m just saying– when I ask my students to perform, and instead of performing, they go ahead and SHIT THEMSELVES, I do not give them a “B.”
I send them home.
And then I never look at them the same way again.
Doing reading assessments…
Me: “Ok, good job reading that story! Now can you tell me what it’s about?”
Kid: “No not really.”
Me: “Oh. Why not?”
Kid: “Well…it’s just. This really isn’t the best day of my life.”