Thursday, December 04, 2008

Come and knock on our door.

I’m trying to teach yesterday, and there’s a knock at my door. It was strange because no one ever knocks--students, teachers, administrators, facility workers.

Well, the knocking was certainly appropriate for something that was entirely inappropriate—solicitation. These two students were selling homemade candy to raise money for their after-school club. Funny, shouldn’t they be doing something like that AFTER school!?

Are we no longer teaching in school anymore!? If isn’t this jack-a-ninny-o-gram, then it’s a secret Santa candy cane or secret Valentine carnation deliveries. Seriously, why not put my class in a washateria? It would be less distracting.

Better yet, how about you give me one of those kiosks in the middle of the mall. That way kids can get on with their daily commerce, and I can hustle some education the best I can. It’s not like I haven’t taken a backseat already.

I know. I can stand out there with a tray of rhyming couplets in sample cups as the kids waive me off to go buy expensive, torn jeans. Or maybe I should cut right to the chase and sit on the corner with a guitar, case open for donations, teaching imagery in The Fall of the House of Usher to the tune of a Nickleback song! It’s only a matter of time!

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