Today

I did not write for the last two days for the children angered me with their petty outbursts and shallow bleating. However today is not about that, and the monstrous disappointment 8th period has become. Instead it is about the last true hope for the year, AP Government and Politics and to some extent Economics Honors.

There is a test and a quiz and both are happening soon and if you were unaware, now you are not. The information is on Canvas.

I have searched for some time for the proper analogy, the most succinct way to describe the way that teaching can be both inspirational and also a source of great mediocrity. This is what I have.

Today in teacher planning, shoved into a corner of a room too small for actual planning or collaboration is a microwave. I watched as a world history teacher wrapped a mozzarella cheese stick in the whitest tortilla I have ever seen. He heated it briefly. Was it genius? Apathy? A mixture of both? He created the saddest quesadilla ever constructed. A quesadilla filled not so much with sad Walmart cheese, but dreams forgotten a fate much worse than dreams broken. The cheese was just a punctuation in the symbolism of this food. This would be the food given in the Holy Communion if the religion was empty futures and the church a small room with a refrigerator and a toilet. Both the toilet and the refrigerator are too close to each other. The quesadilla was consumed before the door even closed as said teacher walked back to his classroom. There was no salsa, although I wouldn't have been surprised if it had been dipped in ketchup, the sacrificial blood of tortured tomatoes.

Together we sacrifice on the altar of suburban mediocrity and our poets go unsung, and our prophets are all listening for a god that has chosen a vow of silence, and this is my Epistle to the people of Cypress Bay.

So let it be known.