Jack from Missouri (the “Show Me” State) … A Teacher’s Journal
Emerald City High is located in an area where the economy is seasonal. Over the last several years, many businesses have been hiring kids from Eastern bloc countries to work summer jobs. This has put a great deal of pressure upon our local youth, who now must compete for work that they used to take for granted.
Just the other day, two of my best students, Star Winthrop and McKinley McCallister, rushed over to my café table in tears. It was early summer and I was enjoying my mocha latte and raspberry scone while studying the No Child Left Behind laws.
“Why, what’s the matter, Star?” I asked, concerned. “And you, McKinley, why the long, sad face?”
“The R-R-R-Russians!” sobbed Star. “They stole our bagger jobs!”
“That’s right,” McKinley said. “And Mr. Larsen, we’re, like, born in the U.S.A. We pay taxes and shit.”
“This is terrible,” I said. “Have you spoken to the manager about it?”
Star appeared to choke, sob, and gasp in a gurgling medley of grief. “We did,” she finally said, “but
Jack from Missouri (the “Show Me” State) … A Teacher’s Journal
I like teaching high school because of the stimulating exchange of ideas. For example, a freshman girl once entered my room and, using a rather creative comparison, announced: “This place smells worse than my crotch!” She didn’t say anything more on the subject, but the inference was clear: Her crotch was a fairly
uninhabitable place.
Several months ago a few boys in my senior class offered this provocative bit of news on recent medical research. They had heard, from reputable sources who were stocking shelves at the local supermarket, that there were significant advances being made in a cure for breast cancer. Apparently, said the excited boys, you could really reduce a woman’s chances of ever getting breast cancer if you “socked her in
the boob.”
April 20 is a new holiday for high school students across the country, or so I’ve been
Jack from Missouri (the “Show Me” State) … A Teacher’s Journal
I remember that day so clearly. I was still a young man then—not much over forty, as they say in the AARP youth brochures. I had been teaching at Emerald City High for at least fifteen years.
I was writing subject-verb agreement sentences on the blackboard and I wanted to proceed slowly and with great care. This particular class was somewhat resistant to instruction. One student had recently bitten a classmate in her biology class (her counselor told me that she had “personal space” issues). Another student was struggling to fart on command, while another was sucking her thumb. They were all part of a college prep program. As we say at Emerald City High, college prep means that you have no definite plans for going to jail….
“Does anyone know which subject you would choose to figure out the verb form?” I had written an example sentence on the board: "Either four cars or a bus (is, are) needed to take the Y group up to Devil’s Lake.” I was about to underline the word “bus” when it happened. Across my shoulder floated the white cylindrical shape; a ghostly missile fired near my head. It hit the verb “is” on the board with a soft “pfft” sound. Then it fell.
Jack from Missouri (the “Show Me” State) … A Teacher’s Journal
Ferst, I dont like Anny Careena by this Tolstoy guy. I think it sucks the big harey root. Mr. Larsen made us do a revuw of a book so I’m doing it but that doesnt mean I like the book. I dont like reeding. It hurts my head.
All these people have wierd names. There parents must have been retarded or something to give them names like “Stupavitch” or what ever. Also what’s a czar? How do you even say czar? Is it like sissors? Or is it like cars? Why can’t these people spell? I dont know. I dont really care. I dont understand any of these people or why its snowing all the time. Do they live in Minesota? I new a girl once who came from Minnasota. She was a skank. I think Anny is a skank too. Or should I say “czank,” hah. (146 words)
Anny is married to this old dude. I think he needs Vyagra because hes old and mean. They didn’t have Vyagra I guess in the 70s. Anny is pretty horny and
Jack from Missouri (the “Show Me” State) … A Teacher’s Journal
As a public school teacher in contemporary American society, you hear and see a lot of strange things. At times, it’s almost as if you’re an investigator into the paranormal. I can’t verify the authenticity of the following stories. Many teachers swear they are true. I merely offer them for your consideration. Real? Unreal? Or a door opening upon a different dimension? Let me be your guide to…
A high school held a special meeting for parents before a new dress code was to be adopted. For years, the school had been dealing with discipline problems related to the kids wearing provocative and/or obscene clothing. The consensus of opinion among the teachers and administrators was that a dress code would help to create an atmosphere more conducive to learning.
On the day of the meeting, the high school gymnasium was packed to overflowing with parents. In fact, in the school’s long history, no issue, academic or otherwise, had ever produced such a large turnout. The majority of parents were very angry. How dare the school violate their kids’ constitutional rights, their freedom of speech, their freedom of expression, their freedom to be…ME? The tumultuous gathering was capped by one mother’s loud tirade. God gave my daughter a beautiful body, she fumed to the assembled school officials. And why
