I didn't think anyone was listening, so I stopped writing. My mistake, honestly.

Sometimes there are pressures in the job and pressures in the life and pressures everywhere.  

 The only way to release the pressures is to actually release them.  I am not a writer, I am a releaser.

So I came back and saw that there was actually a message from a stranger in my inbox.  One golden glowing ticket.  One ray of pissed off father who was angry I pointed out that there was a screaming autistic child in my doorway while I was trying to teach.   When I tried to reply to him, to tell him that "yes I support inclusion but the program is not being implemented properly," (as I said in my post) I also can't deny the fact that there is a SCREAMING CHILD in my doorway when I am trying to teach.  That the system is freaking broken.  That it doesn't help anyone.

I am not a freaking reporter, either.   There's no spin to this. 

I am Miss Educator.  

 I am peppy and spirited and I try to give your kids a happy 45 minutes.  And maybe a little bit of Language Arts.  Some days I think I know what I am doing.  Other days I have no effing clue.  If you think you get feedback as an educator, you are wrong.  I don't even have a textbook.  I have a book of standards and some test scores.  Make the scores go up.  

Make less copies.  

As a matter of fact, make NO copies, because we don't have any money.  And, you better ask around for more desks because your classes will hit 40 next year.

So, no, I am not trying to bully your disabled child out of my classroom.  I  am trying to wrap my  tiny, "miseducated," unprepared brain around the fact that while one of my students is sobbing because her dad took her phone away for the C she got in Algebra, another one of my students  hasn't spoken to ANYONE in two weeks because his family is homeless.  12 year old.  Will not speak. Homeless.

 So thank you Mister "I deleted My Profile."  I am back.  And I am back with no mission, except to tell the stories.  So they don't tell me.

“I've been making a list of the things they don't teach you at school. They don't teach you how to love somebody. They don't teach you how to be famous. They don't teach you how to be rich or how to be poor. They don't teach you how to walk away from someone you don't love any longer. They don't teach you how to know what's going on in someone else's mind. They don't teach you what to say to someone who's dying. They don't teach you anything worth knowing.”

Neil Gaiman