Put your pants on and get to work


My not going to work sends one message only: We have a sub, so we can snap chat in the dark for 90 minutes while an overly dramatic History Channel documentary plays in the background.  

If I do go to work, I can do all of the following:

  • Bang my head against a wall, or more often, my desk.
  • Repeat directions for the umpteenth time.
  • Answer stupid questions (they do exist, and you know it).
  • Deal with unending nonsense from other adults that keeps me from doing what needs to be done for the kids.
  • Patiently correct a child when they say something so egregiously ignorant/sexist/racist and they don’t even know it.
  • Provide a space for kids to ask questions about their world in what I hope is a non-partisan, safe atmosphere.
  • Be a female role model who gets shit done.

I have no authority. All I have is a reluctant audience of 160 young people before me, but in that I have a stage. I have a platform. I can explain, guide, and impart life lessons such as leggings aren’t really pants, and Abigail Adams or Sojourner Truth would never wear a pussy hat. Sure, most don’t listen. Most don’t give a fuck (they’re like the honey badger). But always always always in the crowd is a young person or two who does care and who is curious. So I am reminding myself at 5:30 in the goddamn morning that these are the young people I’m after, and whatever creature the school system designates as a substitute isn’t going to help them in any way, but I can. So I’m putting my pants on and going to work. As you can see from this picture, there is clearly still work to be done with the young people of this great nation.
The children are our future.

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