natural-ish. Classy. Hot.
you keep using the same adjectives but I have no idea what you mean
Andrea, the dear friend that she is, sends me some ideas from Instagram. I can do this.
thank you kissessss
Then I turn off the lights, climb under the covers this time, then finish what I started earlier.
I manage to avoid Elias all day on Monday, but school on Tuesday is really fucking annoying.
I’m all ready to launch my Olympics unit, since the summer Olympics just happened this past August. My unit plan isgreat. It’s going to integrate multiple subjects—reading, writing, math, science, social studies, even fucking P.E. (because I’m still going to help Elias with my class because they are still my class, and I love them dearly, andtheyhaven’t wronged me). My kids will be learning about the history, different sports, statistics, countries, and cultural significance of the Olympics, and the unit will culminate in a mini-Olympics event where they can apply what they’ve learned.
Scratch that. My kidsshouldbe learning all those things, but they may not, because of the news Lina comes in to tell me.
I have a prep first period today, and Lina comes in rolling a pushcart loaded with books. Thick workbooks. And they all look exactly the same.No.
“Don’t you dare,” I tell her.
She throws three heavy textbooks on my desk, then starts counting out thirty-one student workbooks.
“Get that out of here,” I try again.
She sighs, pushing all the strands that have fallen out of her topknot away from her face. “Principal Thomas wants everyone in the school to teach this reading and writing curriculum?—”
“No,” I whisper.
“—to fidelity.”
“Stop.”
“It’s entirely scripted,” she forces out, her eyes squeezed shut.
“Lina,” I warn.
“—and it’s called Words of Wonder,” she squeaks.
I’m struck speechless. Lina and I look at one another, and I wonder which of us is going to burst into tears first.
We manage to keep it together.
“I thought PS 2 figured out a long time ago that the one-size-fits-all scripted test prep curriculum was actually a detriment to student learning,” I growl.
“We sure did,” she says.
“And I thought our test scores actually started going up, once we started teaching in a transdisciplinary, culturally responsive, project-based way,” I hiss.
“Don’t you take that tone with me, Mia,” she whisper-shouts back. “I fucking agree with you. This is the wrong thing for our school.”
“So then why are we doing this?” I whisper-yell back.
“Because she’s the fucking principal of this school, she calls the shots, and there’s not one fucking thing you or I can do about it,” she whisper-screams hysterically.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” I poke at the thick teacher’s guide and open to a random page. “Good morning, class!” I read verbatim from one of the lessons. “Today, we are going to learn how to find the main idea! Can anyone tell me what the main idea is?” I say in a robotic voice. “Students should answer that the main idea gives the general gist of a passage. Correct, bracket, student name, close bracket! The main idea gives the general gist?—”
In the time it’s taken me to read that, Lina has pulled all of her hair out of her topknot, and now stands in front of me with a rat’s nest halo. “Stop, Mia,” she pleads. “I can’t handle it.”
“What should we do about this?”
