But Along the Way, I Learned Something
In my first year teaching nursery rhymes to inner city high schoolers, I had days where it seemed like I'd never get through:
"These three mice, three blind mice, they had a violent upbringing, too. Sound familiar?"
"It's OK to experience setbacks. Does it frustrate you when you don't 'climb a spout' on the first try? Does it make you feel eencey? Maybe a little weencey?"
"On first glance, all this "baa baa" and "three bags" stuff seems pretty wack, right? But what is Goose really saying? If she were writing today, would she ask, Baa baa, Latina sheep, have you any self esteem?"
But by the time we made it to the Tri-County Nursery Jam -- and won! -- I knew that these kids, who on my first day of teaching had stolen my shoe, had ended up stealing my heart. I would never forget them, and they would never forget me.
But they did! Those motherfuckers! They all became famous rappers, and never once did those ungrateful bastards give me a shout out or name a clothing line after me. Or even just mail me back my shoe.
Well, I'll show them. I've been hopping my way up the administrative ladder and I just got made Vice. Fucking. Principal. That's right. I have your files. Let's see what your legions of fans think of your essay writing skills. What kind of street cred will you have left once they find out you can't even write a topic sentence?
Remember these first paragraphs, betrayers?
The speed limit: is it too low? Yes. There are good arguments on both sides, but the arguments against it are not good. In this essay, I will discuss the concept of speed, the drug called speed, that movie, the second movie (the one with the boat), possibilities of a third movie, and in conclusion, I will show that the speed limit isn't high enough, and they should lower it.
The prostate gland: we all have one, but what does it do? In men, the prostate helps you lie down, or lie "prostate," when you feel like lying down. In women, it's a mystery. Most women won't even admit to having one. In this essay, I will show that they are totally faking.
Me: in love with Ciara, or maybe not? In this essay, I will show that I am for real. Although many sources believe that I am merely infatuated with her, they make several unfounded assumptions that are not supported by the facts of my heart. Furthermore, I believe that with hard work, I will someday become famous so that Ciara will have to notice and fall in love with me, although it must be stated that she is not shallow and will fall in love with the real me, deep inside. The best advice I ever received was when my Nursery Studies teacher taught me to always follow my dream. My dream is to get with Ciara.
Oh my. I've -- I've been a fool. I let the spider of jealousy chase me away from my curds of accomplishment. That's one good kid. I shouldn't have said those things about him. I'll take down that web site where I drew stuff on his face. And I should go to his mansion and tell him I'm proud of him. Maybe, if I hurry, I can get there before the pipe bomb goes off. Oh, I hope so! But it's funny -- who would have thought, all that time I was teaching them, they were teaching me! And none of their lessons got through to me until now, years later. Wow, they were some seriously shitty teachers.
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