Kid (pointing to the messy bun piled on top of my head): “My mom wears her hair like that when she does laundry.”
Me: “Oh, perfect.”
Kid: “Or, like, if she’s staying in the house all day.”
Me: “Uh huh…”
Kid: “Really if she’s doing anything where other people won’t see her.”
During a whole-group lesson about personification, writing a poem with the kids.
Us: “How can we personify the sound leaves make in the breeze?”
Kid (raises hand): <makes loud breathing noise>
Us: “Ok, but how might we say that in words?”
Kid: <makes breathing sound again>
Us: “Ok, but we are writing a poem, so we need WORDS.”
Kid: “Ok, hold on.”
Us: “WORDS.”
(Long Pause. Entire class waits.)
Kid: <makes breathing noise again>
Today the kids are practicing using similes in poetry.
Kid (writing a poem about fish): “Scaly like…hmmmm….Miss Emily, can you please help me?”
Me: “How about ‘scaly like an old lady’s hands’…”
Kid (looks at my hands): “But your hands aren’t scaly.”
Me: “I’m not an old lady!”
Kid: “Oh.”
Get the fuck out of my classroom.
Now that we’ve confirmed that Chipotle is ACTUALLY tainted with E Coli from feces, the free burrito offering to teachers during Teacher Appreciation Week makes complete sense.
“Thanks, teachers! Here’s a free hot steaming pile of shit– in a wrap! You deserve it!”
(I’ll still eat mine)
My 4th grade student told me about her slightly older brother having a sleepover with his friends at their apartment.
Kid: “So I knew he was having a sleepover with all boys so OBVIOUSLY I made plans to sleep at my friend’s house.”
Me: “Oh, yeah. Wise move.”
Kid: “But then my friend got sick and I couldn’t go! So I had to be there with all the boys. AND IT WAS CHAOS.”
Me: “Oh, I can imagine! Boys can be wild.”
Kid: “Yeah but you don’t even understand. Before they went to bed…they did the grossest thing…”
Me: “I’m scared….”
Kid: “They ALL TOOK OFF THEIR SHIRTS.”
Me (relieved but feigning drama): “What?! NO! Their SHIRTS?!”
Kid: “I know. It. Was. DISGUSTING! Boys are soooo gross!!!”
Oh, girlfriend. Just you wait.
When I was a 4th grader, I dressed up as Michael Jackson for Halloween by putting on a wig, a glove, and covering my entire face in white face paint.
Fifteen years later, it is just now occurring to me how horribly offensive that was. I somehow managed, at age 9, to unknowingly create a more awkward and offensive scenario than going in blackface. I even remember one neighbor hesitating to give me candy. I figured he just wasn’t a Michael fan.
The year before that, in 3rd grade, I went as a hobo. I wore a sign around my neck that said “Buddy, can you spare a dime?” In the town of Potomac, Maryland, where there is now a Real Housewives series (inexplicably devoid of any Jews or white people, but that’s a subject for another post) being filmed. Enough said. We had a school Halloween parade (this was back in the days when schools let children have fun), and I marched through the halls and recess yard wearing my dirty t-shirt, disheveled hair, and “hilarious” sign. The other Potomac parents loved it. The other students didn’t get it (they had never seen a poor person). The teachers, who could not afford to live in Potomac, looked away. I figured maybe they felt bad that they didn’t have a dime to give me.
“Don’t worry!” I told my teacher, laughing. “You don’t REALLY have to give me money!”
She did not smile.
Finally, at age 16, I decided to be something normal for Halloween. A friend was throwing a big Halloween dance party, and I went as Cinderella. Full-blown floor length ball gown, crown, the works.
“Finally!” my mom cried as she dropped me off at the party, “I’ve tried for years to get you wear something like this for Halloween!”
I rolled my eyes, slid the mini-van door closed, and walked into the party, fluffing my skirt upon entrance.
I was the only one in costume.
It’s a wonder I ever leave the apartment.
A parent of one of my students came in for a meeting…
Parent: “Some of the kids have been calling my son a ‘whiny little bitch’ at recess, and it’s really hurting his feelings. What should he do?”
Me: “Oh my goodness! I had no idea this was happening. Well, I think he needs to start by standing up for himself and telling these kids that he will not tolerate their name-calling.”
He might also want to consider not being such a whiny little bitch.
In reference to the classroom…
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