“She’s actually been looking pretty clean lately!”
— co worker, about a student’s mother, said with genuine enthusiasm and hope.
“She’s actually been looking pretty clean lately!”
— co worker, about a student’s mother, said with genuine enthusiasm and hope.
(Part of the #june series)
Kid: <stops asking. Realizes he’s learning nothing. Focuses on wiping his sweat.>
Me: <asleep.>
#june
(part of the #june series)
Kid: “Why do we have to learn this?”
Me: “Learn what? I haven’t taught a damn thing in two weeks.”
#june
So here’s how the story ended:
When my teacher tried to force the black hamster on me, I cried. So she relented, mostly because I was making her extremely uncomfortable, and let me have a beige one.
It died two days later.
Pretty sure the black one is still alive.
That 90 degree day in June when the AC breaks and your day begins by watching your 60 year old paraprofessional wipe down her entire sweaty body with the last of the class tissues.
#publicschool
When I was in 5th grade, a kid in my class brought in about a dozen baby hamsters to give away to classmates who wanted them (a scenario that, as a teacher now, I can’t even believe was allowed to happen, but I digress)…
Of the roughly 12 hamsters, 11 were beige and 1 was black. I approached the hamster cage to make my choice (not having asked my parents permission to have a pet, just straight up assuming that because I wanted it, it shall be mine). I perused the choices and stated with authority, “I definitely think the beige ones are cuter.”
My teacher, who was a tyrant and certifiably batshit, got wide in the eyes and said, “That is extremely racist. You’re taking the black one.”
The black one had patches of fur missing. Its eyes were swollen shut. It had one ear.
My preference had nothing to do with color. Also, I was 10 years old. And it was A FUCKING HAMSTER.
Still. I never made that mistake again.