(below are some amusing teacher moments from when I was fourteen..)
SUBJECT #1
teacher: see my writing ? it’s old-time writing. use your new-time writing…you may not have seen this type of writing before, so..just be careful!
: this paper is NOT, I repeat NOT, I repeat NOT to be written on !
: is there anyone who does not know what to do ? LOOK AT ME ! for the second time, is there anyone who does not know what to do ? LOOK AT ME ! for the third time, is there anyone who does not know what to do ? LOOK AT ME !
: look, the more you talk, the less work you get done, the less work you get done, the dumber you get, the dumber you are, the less interesting you are, the less interesting you are, the less people want to talk to you.
: Frank Sinatra’s got nothin’ on me !
:…like hens in a henhouse, like chooks in a chook shed, like human beings in a classroom.
: yeah, as a boy, me and my friends used to peroxide our hair to look like surfies because we couldn’t surf. and we’d walk along the beach with wet hair to try and impress the girls.
: Iron is very heavy hevvy evvy effy fe FE. teaching the class that the element ish label name thing thang for iron is FE
fill-in teacher #1: it’s something about the library, isn’t it ? these round tables make you go ape ! you’re acting like apes ! shakes head in disbelief
: rapid temperature changes break rock. ..that’s rock, not rock and roll ! laughs at own joke
SUBJECT #2
teacher: (our prediction of what her phone’s answering machine message would have been) ‘hi, you’ve reached the beast. please leave your height and weight, body mass index, blood type, shoe size and name. if i’m interested i might get back to you…i do make house calls…i do prefer this type of body shape.. oh shit. you cant see it though the phone..i can personally visit you though…i like legs medium rare; not too slim. meaty is my motto.’
: boy in class had coloured his nails in black with black felt pen what, are you trying to be a girl, a gothic, or what ?!
boy in class to teacher: how do you spell the stars in the Antarctica? teacher: Aurora Australia-is..A-U-R-0-R-A..i think…? girl in class: it’s Australis, not Australia-is. teacher: oh, is it? okay.
feral boy in class: I HATE SOSE. SOSE RAPED MA MUM !!
SUBJECT #3
teacher: i got jarded somthin’ shockin’ !
SUBJECT #4
teacher: Rachel, can I please have a biscuit? self, in fear: no !!! run out of classroom
fill-in teacher #1: as my cousin Elvis would say, ‘ a little less conversation, a little more action please.’
fill-in teacher #2: i can tell you’re arty by the way you do your hair. friend sitting next to me: ..i can tell you’re not arty.
SUBJECT #5
teacher: some dickhead teacher left their writing all over this board ! it just pisses me off ! leaving their crap all over the board for the next to have to rub off !
: okay, i explained it. if you didn’t understand, then you should have listened.
: to girl in class can you sit up straight please ? detention
: Rachel, you have taken your weirdness too far. detention
: collecting like terms; what the hell does that mean ?!
SUBJECT #6
fill-in teacher #1: yeah, i used to get around with no bra on. it was pretty sensational back then. no-one would care now.
lines left on the board from detentions in the English room:
Corey – i am not a monkey, just a misunderstood teenager.
Chewing Gum – i should bring gum for everyone next time, or not at all.
Wagging – being at school is great. why would i want to waste a minute of it.
Behaviour Card – being on a card means that i have to try to be perfect.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
two days before the inauguration, PARADE published a letter from Barack Obama to his daughters about what he hoped for them and all the children of America. the letter attracted international attention. on this Father's Day, we asked the President to reflect on what fatherhood means to him.:
'as the father of two young girls who have shown such poise, humour, and patience in the unconventional life into which they have been thrust, i mark this Father's Day--our first in the White House--with a deep sense of gratitude. one of the greatest benefits of being President is that i now live right above the office. i see my girls off to school nearly every morning and have dinner with them nearly every night. it is a welcome change after so many years out on the campaign trail and commuting between Chicago and Capitol Hill.
but i observe this Father's Day not just as a father grateful to be present in my daughters' lives but also as a son who grew up without a father in my own life. my father left my family when i was 2 years old, and i knew him mainly from the letters he wrote and the stories my family told. and while i was lucky to have two wonderful grandparents who poured everything they had into helping my mother raise my sister and me, i still felt the weight of his absence throughout my childhood.
as an adult, working as a community organizer and later as a legislator, i would often walk through the streets of Chicago's South Side and see boys marked by that same absence--boys without supervision or direction or anyone to help them as they struggled to grow into men. i identified with their frustration and disengagement--with their sense of having been let down.
in many ways, i came to understand the importance of fatherhood through its absence--both in my life and in the lives of others. i came to understand that the hole a man leaves when he abandons his responsibility to his children is one that no government can fill. we can do everything possible to provide good jobs and good schools and safe streets for our kids, but it will never be enough to fully make up the difference.
that is why we need fathers to step up, to realise that their job does not end at conception; that what makes you a man is not the ability to have a child but the courage to raise one.
as fathers, we need to be involved in our children's lives not just when it's convenient or easy, and not just when they're doing well--but when it's difficult and thankless, and they're struggling. that is when they need us most.
and it's not enough to just be physically present. too often, especially during tough economic times like these, we are emotionally absent: distracted, consumed by what's happening in our own lives, worried about keeping our jobs and paying our bills, unsure if we'll be able to give our kids the same opportunities we had.
our children can tell. they know when we're not fully there. and that disengagement sends a clear message--whether we mean it or not--about where among our priorities they fall.
so we need to step out of our own heads and tune in. we need to turn off the television and start talking with our kids, and listening to them, and understanding what's going on in their lives.
we need to set limits and expectations. we need to replace that video game with a book and make sure that homework gets done. we need to say to our daughters, don't ever let images on TV tell you what you are worth, because i expect you to dream without limit and reach for your goals. we need to tell our sons, those songs on the radio may glorify violence, but in our house, we find glory in achievement, self-respect, and hard work.
we need to realise that we are our children's first and best teachers. when we are selfish or inconsiderate, when we mistreat our wives or girlfriends, when we cut corners or fail to control our tempers, our children learn from that--and it's no surprise when we see those behaviors in our schools or on our streets.
but it also works the other way around. when we work hard, treat others with respect, spend within our means, and contribute to our communities, those are the lessons our children learn. and that is what so many fathers are doing every day--coaching soccer and Little League, going to those school assemblies and parent-teacher conferences, scrimping and saving and working that extra shift so their kids can go to college. they are fulfilling their most fundamental duty as fathers: to show their children, by example, the kind of people they want them to become.
it is rarely easy. there are plenty of days of struggle and heartache when, despite our best efforts, we fail to live up to our responsibilities. i know i have been an imperfect father. i know i have made mistakes. i have lost count of all the times, over the years, when the demands of work have taken me from the duties of fatherhood. there were many days out on the campaign trail when i felt like my family was a million miles away, and i knew i was missing moments of my daughters' lives that i'd never get back. it is a loss i will never fully accept.
but on this Father's Day, i think back to the day i drove Michelle and a newborn Malia home from the hospital nearly 11 years ago--crawling along, miles under the speed limit, feeling the weight of my daughter's future resting in my hands. i think about the pledge i made to her that day: that i would give her what i never had--that if I could be anything in life, i would be a good father. i knew that day that my own life wouldn't count for much unless she had every opportunity in hers. and i knew i had an obligation, as we all do, to help create those opportunities and leave a better world for her and all our children.
on this Father's Day, i am recommitting myself to that work, to those duties that all parents share: to build a foundation for our children's dreams, to give them the love and support they need to fulfill them, and to stick with them the whole way through, no matter what doubts we may feel or difficulties we may face. that is my prayer for all of us on this Father's Day, and that is my hope for this nation in the months and years ahead.'
SUBJECT #1
teacher: see my writing ? it’s old-time writing. use your new-time writing…you may not have seen this type of writing before, so..just be careful!
: this paper is NOT, I repeat NOT, I repeat NOT to be written on !
: is there anyone who does not know what to do ? LOOK AT ME ! for the second time, is there anyone who does not know what to do ? LOOK AT ME ! for the third time, is there anyone who does not know what to do ? LOOK AT ME !
: look, the more you talk, the less work you get done, the less work you get done, the dumber you get, the dumber you are, the less interesting you are, the less interesting you are, the less people want to talk to you.
: Frank Sinatra’s got nothin’ on me !
:…like hens in a henhouse, like chooks in a chook shed, like human beings in a classroom.
: yeah, as a boy, me and my friends used to peroxide our hair to look like surfies because we couldn’t surf. and we’d walk along the beach with wet hair to try and impress the girls.
: Iron is very heavy hevvy evvy effy fe FE. teaching the class that the element ish label name thing thang for iron is FE
fill-in teacher #1: it’s something about the library, isn’t it ? these round tables make you go ape ! you’re acting like apes ! shakes head in disbelief
: rapid temperature changes break rock. ..that’s rock, not rock and roll ! laughs at own joke
SUBJECT #2
teacher: (our prediction of what her phone’s answering machine message would have been) ‘hi, you’ve reached the beast. please leave your height and weight, body mass index, blood type, shoe size and name. if i’m interested i might get back to you…i do make house calls…i do prefer this type of body shape.. oh shit. you cant see it though the phone..i can personally visit you though…i like legs medium rare; not too slim. meaty is my motto.’
: boy in class had coloured his nails in black with black felt pen what, are you trying to be a girl, a gothic, or what ?!
boy in class to teacher: how do you spell the stars in the Antarctica? teacher: Aurora Australia-is..A-U-R-0-R-A..i think…? girl in class: it’s Australis, not Australia-is. teacher: oh, is it? okay.
feral boy in class: I HATE SOSE. SOSE RAPED MA MUM !!
SUBJECT #3
teacher: i got jarded somthin’ shockin’ !
SUBJECT #4
teacher: Rachel, can I please have a biscuit? self, in fear: no !!! run out of classroom
fill-in teacher #1: as my cousin Elvis would say, ‘ a little less conversation, a little more action please.’
fill-in teacher #2: i can tell you’re arty by the way you do your hair. friend sitting next to me: ..i can tell you’re not arty.
SUBJECT #5
teacher: some dickhead teacher left their writing all over this board ! it just pisses me off ! leaving their crap all over the board for the next to have to rub off !
: okay, i explained it. if you didn’t understand, then you should have listened.
: to girl in class can you sit up straight please ? detention
: Rachel, you have taken your weirdness too far. detention
: collecting like terms; what the hell does that mean ?!
SUBJECT #6
fill-in teacher #1: yeah, i used to get around with no bra on. it was pretty sensational back then. no-one would care now.
lines left on the board from detentions in the English room:
Corey – i am not a monkey, just a misunderstood teenager.
Chewing Gum – i should bring gum for everyone next time, or not at all.
Wagging – being at school is great. why would i want to waste a minute of it.
Behaviour Card – being on a card means that i have to try to be perfect.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
two days before the inauguration, PARADE published a letter from Barack Obama to his daughters about what he hoped for them and all the children of America. the letter attracted international attention. on this Father's Day, we asked the President to reflect on what fatherhood means to him.:
'as the father of two young girls who have shown such poise, humour, and patience in the unconventional life into which they have been thrust, i mark this Father's Day--our first in the White House--with a deep sense of gratitude. one of the greatest benefits of being President is that i now live right above the office. i see my girls off to school nearly every morning and have dinner with them nearly every night. it is a welcome change after so many years out on the campaign trail and commuting between Chicago and Capitol Hill.
but i observe this Father's Day not just as a father grateful to be present in my daughters' lives but also as a son who grew up without a father in my own life. my father left my family when i was 2 years old, and i knew him mainly from the letters he wrote and the stories my family told. and while i was lucky to have two wonderful grandparents who poured everything they had into helping my mother raise my sister and me, i still felt the weight of his absence throughout my childhood.
as an adult, working as a community organizer and later as a legislator, i would often walk through the streets of Chicago's South Side and see boys marked by that same absence--boys without supervision or direction or anyone to help them as they struggled to grow into men. i identified with their frustration and disengagement--with their sense of having been let down.
in many ways, i came to understand the importance of fatherhood through its absence--both in my life and in the lives of others. i came to understand that the hole a man leaves when he abandons his responsibility to his children is one that no government can fill. we can do everything possible to provide good jobs and good schools and safe streets for our kids, but it will never be enough to fully make up the difference.
that is why we need fathers to step up, to realise that their job does not end at conception; that what makes you a man is not the ability to have a child but the courage to raise one.
as fathers, we need to be involved in our children's lives not just when it's convenient or easy, and not just when they're doing well--but when it's difficult and thankless, and they're struggling. that is when they need us most.
and it's not enough to just be physically present. too often, especially during tough economic times like these, we are emotionally absent: distracted, consumed by what's happening in our own lives, worried about keeping our jobs and paying our bills, unsure if we'll be able to give our kids the same opportunities we had.
our children can tell. they know when we're not fully there. and that disengagement sends a clear message--whether we mean it or not--about where among our priorities they fall.
so we need to step out of our own heads and tune in. we need to turn off the television and start talking with our kids, and listening to them, and understanding what's going on in their lives.
we need to set limits and expectations. we need to replace that video game with a book and make sure that homework gets done. we need to say to our daughters, don't ever let images on TV tell you what you are worth, because i expect you to dream without limit and reach for your goals. we need to tell our sons, those songs on the radio may glorify violence, but in our house, we find glory in achievement, self-respect, and hard work.
we need to realise that we are our children's first and best teachers. when we are selfish or inconsiderate, when we mistreat our wives or girlfriends, when we cut corners or fail to control our tempers, our children learn from that--and it's no surprise when we see those behaviors in our schools or on our streets.
but it also works the other way around. when we work hard, treat others with respect, spend within our means, and contribute to our communities, those are the lessons our children learn. and that is what so many fathers are doing every day--coaching soccer and Little League, going to those school assemblies and parent-teacher conferences, scrimping and saving and working that extra shift so their kids can go to college. they are fulfilling their most fundamental duty as fathers: to show their children, by example, the kind of people they want them to become.
it is rarely easy. there are plenty of days of struggle and heartache when, despite our best efforts, we fail to live up to our responsibilities. i know i have been an imperfect father. i know i have made mistakes. i have lost count of all the times, over the years, when the demands of work have taken me from the duties of fatherhood. there were many days out on the campaign trail when i felt like my family was a million miles away, and i knew i was missing moments of my daughters' lives that i'd never get back. it is a loss i will never fully accept.
but on this Father's Day, i think back to the day i drove Michelle and a newborn Malia home from the hospital nearly 11 years ago--crawling along, miles under the speed limit, feeling the weight of my daughter's future resting in my hands. i think about the pledge i made to her that day: that i would give her what i never had--that if I could be anything in life, i would be a good father. i knew that day that my own life wouldn't count for much unless she had every opportunity in hers. and i knew i had an obligation, as we all do, to help create those opportunities and leave a better world for her and all our children.
on this Father's Day, i am recommitting myself to that work, to those duties that all parents share: to build a foundation for our children's dreams, to give them the love and support they need to fulfill them, and to stick with them the whole way through, no matter what doubts we may feel or difficulties we may face. that is my prayer for all of us on this Father's Day, and that is my hope for this nation in the months and years ahead.'
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