“No, no, no. Good ALWAYS beats evil. EVERY TIME! Don’t you ever read comic books?”
— Kid, age 7, on how he knows Trump will lose the election.
Category Archives: Teaching
“You’re pretty funny for a girl.”
— Kid, age 9, to me.
My Face
Just ran into a school parent while running in the park.
Parent: “So I heard a rumor you left the school? And classroom teaching completely?”
Me: “Yeah, the rumor is true.”
Parent: “Good for you! I knew you were done. Every time I saw you this year, I could just see it on your face.”
No I’m pretty sure that’s just my face.
A Few Clarifiers About My Retirement
I am in day 2 of my retirement and I feel the need to address some questions/comments/concerns that have come my way regarding my decision to leave classroom teaching. This is not a rant– you’ve all been awesomely enthusiastic about it. Just want to clear up some confusion.
1. To be clear, I only left classroom teaching. I am not retired and lying around doing nothing. I’m not sure why this is so confusing for people. Maybe it’s because I keep calling it “my retirement.” 
2. I did not quit my job because I met a man to take care of me, and now I don’t have to work. That is absurd. This is real life, not Real Housewives of Potomac. 
I am still working. But yes, Eric did give me the support, encouragement, stability and gentle kick in the ass I needed to finally leave something that was making me unhappy (and had been for years) and move on to pursue things that bring me joy and contentment. And for that I am eternally grateful.
3. “But I thought you love the people you work with?” I do. With all my heart. They are now some of my best friends on earth, and will remain so. The people I met in my 7 years at that school are the only reason I stayed as long as I did, and I never could have made it through without them. They are my family. My actual job, and all the political/administrative limitations placed on it, is what left me unfulfilled. Not the people. My co workers are, and always will be, the brightest spot in my memory of classroom teaching.
4. “So what are those things you’re going to pursue?” As of now– full time tutoring (which focuses on all the aspects I love about teaching without the systemic BS that prevents me from actually helping children), getting more involved in mental health causes, working on my blog, pursuing freelance writing opportunities, and, honestly, whatever else I think of that sounds exciting!
5. Which leads to the final question/concern: “But if you don’t have crazy stories about classroom teaching, or crazy stories about dating, what are you going to write about?”
Yeah, well, I don’t know, people. I’m just hoping it turns out better for me than it did for this guy.
Kid: “Miss Emily, are you pregnant?”
Me: “No. Are YOU pregnant?”
Kid (confused): “That’s a silly question.”
Exactly.
That About Sums It Up
A few days ago, my coteacher and I sent this kid-written newspaper article to our significant others on the group text chain:
Then today, one of our students wrote a song about us and sang to us. We immediately sent it to the men.
We’ll be sure to publish that in the class paper. Advice column.
Nope, that’s just food.
“You’re not pregnant too, are you?”
— Parent, to me, after hearing that almost everyone on my grade team is pregnant.
Because, as everyone knows, pregnancy is contagious.
And a completely appropriate subject to broach with someone you don’t know well at all.
Maybe We Don’t Always Need to Teach Them to Speak Up
A former student enters my room, walks over to me, and sheepishly mumbles something…
Me: “Honey, I can’t hear a word you’re saying. Speak up!”
Kid: <steps closer and mumbles again>
Me: “I would love to help you but I cannot hear you! Louder!”
Kid: <more mumbling>
Me: “What?!”
Kid: “DO YOU HAVE A MAXI PAD?”
Oh. Shit.
June– It’s Not Good
Everyone I know, to me: “It’s June! You’re, like, DONE! You must be so happy!”
No.
Fucking, just, no. No, no, no.
I’m sure this is very difficult for non-teachers to understand, but June is actually one of the worst months of the year in our profession. June carries with it a very specific, very potent, very excruciating kind of misery that is like the 3rd cousin of, but not directly related to, the general misery that permeates months September through May.
The kids are OUT. OF. CONTROL. The end-of-year housekeeping tasks are never ending and mind-numbingly dull. Administration is in a state of perpetual pissed-off. The building is 972 degrees, whether it’s a cool or hot day outside. Makes no difference. Heat and humidity of any kind gets trapped, it rises, the air conditioner breaks (if it even worked in the first place), and suddenly you feel as though you are trapped on the E-train platform in the dead of August. Surrounded by other people’s sweaty, prepubescent children. For 8 hours straight.
It’s not good.
So please. I know you all mean well, but save the “You’re done! You must be so happy!” for June 28th, 3:01pm, and not a moment before (or 3:10pm if you want a particularly animated response, as I’ll be 7 shots deep by then).
Because here’s what’s happening now:
(15 minutes later….)
The Staff Bathroom
The first time this happened to me, there was no sign. Please don’t underestimate the sound, vibration, and fury of this “huge rattling.” I was certain one of the following scenarios was occurring:
1) My worst childhood fear is coming true– Jaws has found a way to exist in the toilet, and the flush is his attack signal.
2) Zombie apocalypse: attack of the pipe people.
3) I’m hallucinating. Things like this don’t happen to educated professionals at their place of employment. Did I take my meds today?
4) This “bathroom” is, as I’ve always suspected, a torture chamber for serial killers, designed to implode after any sudden movements.
5) I’ve done it. I’ve angered God.
But no. Turns out we just work in a dilapidated shithole that probably once housed zoo animals.
So…phew? 
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