Use Your Words

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Imagine a continuum of job difficulty. Let’s assign Royal Bonbon Taster a Difficulty Level of 1. Although, he’d probably tell me I have no idea how rough it is keeping up with the dental bills. President Obama, on the other hand, has to grapple with climate change, war, recession, national security, health care reform, education overhaul, potential pandemic, scooping Bo’s poop . . . . Okay, that sounds hard. Let’s make The Post-Bush Presidency a Level 10.

Y’all, teachers are a 12. And you can add one point on any day unfortunately aligned with any of the following exacerbating conditions:

• A holiday

• Immediately prior to a holiday

• Immediately following a holiday

• Inclement weather (ACK! Indoor recess!)

• Full moon

• Beginning of the year

• End of the year

• And pretty much any day throughout the year where any condition in any child’s home falls below ideal

But then, to be fair, we really have to grade on a curve here due to some pretty sweet hours and (Thank you Baby Jesus) SUMMER! Let’s call it a 7.

Many days I come home exhausted by the sheer superhuman effort given to words. You remember how unfair you thought it was when your mother just completely copped out and tossed you a Because I Said So? Come to find out, she was really doing you a favor. If she had to stop and analyze every aspect of every situation and craft the perfectly phrased response to every problem you threw at her all day every everlovin' day, she’d probably have run off with the milkman by the time you were four. (My sincerest apologies to those of you whose mothers ran off with the milkman when you were four.)

But teachers are held to a higher standard. You can yell at your kids, but we can’t. We have to work harder at our words. I guess that’s why they call it work.

Turns out, all this laboring over words every day has an upside. Today, I won a grant.




I actually wrote the proposal last year, and was denied. But just as I tend to sorta maybe not so much completely 100 percent conform to rules I think are wrong, I can be a tenacious little pain in the ass when I decide something is right. And my idea rocks, if I do say so myownself. I don’t know if they agreed this year, or if they’re just smart enough to know a pit bull when they read one. Either way, yay for me. Yay for my school. And yay for the wise folks at The Public Education Foundation. If ever a girl could stretch every last dime out of your money, it’d be me. I promise; I’ll do you proud.





I give today a 1. Now would somebody please get a sistah a bonbon?
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