The SBH & I have had our disgruntled goat moments with educators &, mostly & unsurprisingly, bean-counting admin types whose time would be better spent counting actual beans, affiliated with the classrooms the lunatic offspring spend their days doodling in, but in the interest of fairness & in ending this run-on more awkward than my usual fare, must now offer great praise to a pro-Misery Chick teacher who shall remain nameless for reasons of national security.
Apparently, there's a running extra credit gig in Offspring the Younger's English class, but it's mainly used to encourage shorties to pen stuff 'cause not every parent(s) is as yay! literature! as yours truly. Long becoming short, our genetic offshoot turned in previously-written, as angsty black-clad teenage chicks are wont to do, angsty black-clad teenage chick verse that, instead of generating a phone call flush with Columbine-isms, instead proffered yay! literature! post-its & a suggestion to check out the yay! death! of Emily Dickinson.
Yay! (some) teachers!
13 comments:
Oh look at you getting all optimistic and cheerful in your approaching old-agefulness.
"You'll be sorry!", he curmudgeoned.
~
Kudo's to the teacher for encouraging her instead of just the usual eye roll!
It's a special thing when a teacher actually gets your kid. :)
((Hugs))
Laura
Once again, more anecdotal evidence that Metal Dads (and Metal Moms too, I guess) rule.
As a penner of angsty teenage juvenilia, this warms my little black-clad heart.
if, don't make me post more black metal.
laura, oh yeah. She'd still do her thing, but when the teacher isn't a yahoo, it makes things easier for the kids.
thatgirl, money can't buy happiness, but sadness can.
Too long-winded for a bumper sticker?
Don't tell me the fruit of your loins is becoming just like the old man? Cthulhu help us there's another like you on this planet. Only room for one says I.
Keep your mind expanding madness in Cleveland. The rest of us want to visit Walmart in peace.
Got to love teachers, especially the hot ones. I can hear David Lee now.
As someone who knew a thing or two about yay! literature! once wrote, all's well that ends well.
If: Emily Dickinson = the patron saint of death metal.
Then: What the hell is Sylvia Plath? And HOWL? [Try out 'angel-headed hipsters' on her & blow her mind.]
P.S. You earned this:
Heavy Metal Kids
A course in chasing away school administrators with iambic pentameter wouldn't be amiss:
Do you recall that simple rule of thumb?
Existence is cogito ergo sum.
demeur, oh hell no. She doesn't even like death metal. Sniff.
mrmacrum, just you wait until they replace the muzak with Darkthrone.
BB, pre- or post-toupee?
SWA, what? No 'something rotten in Cleveland' jokes? You all are slipping!
jim, let's not forget the formative years either, the Iliad's got plenty o' blood corpses.
susan, still cherish we-care-a-lot letter we got about "too many" absences. Of course having more than one or two sick days per quarter is grounds for losing the future, but as terrible parents, we're willing to assume that risk for America.
what a cool teacher!
and you are a great parent for seeing your offspring's writing for what is and not freaking the fuck out and sending her to teen boot camp or something.
how did that happen? :-P
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