Dear Ms. O

I totally appreciate the fact that you just dropped in today to observe me teaching after I had been gone for three days due to illness. Your complete lack of warmth or of facial expression was such a treat, too, especially because I get the same thing from your son, every day of the week.

Now I realize that you might have had a few questions about our lesson plan…no? You understood it all? That’s excellent. I stopped by your son’s desk and he seemed to have written nothing–perhaps you could help him with…oh. It’s my fault he couldn’t do it because of all the talking. I understand. You do realize that most days, your son’s a part of that? But then it’s not his fault because he doesn’t understand the assignment. I’m sorry, I don’t know why he doesn’t understand the assignment. Perhaps if he were to attempt…? No. He can’t try because I’m not a good enough teacher to make him want to try. Okay. So I suck on a LOT of levels. I hear you. I’ll see what I can do about that. Yes, I know he liked Ms. Ava better. Yes, I know he hates me. I’m sure he’d like me better if I were twenty-four, blonde, and size eight, but that’s neither here nor there, he hates me, his grade is all my fault. It’s starting to come together now.

I must add, that I’m especially thrilled with your threat to my administrator to complain about me for calling in sick. You know, you’re right–taking that time off for my kids’ orthodontia, well-baby appointments, and toddler snots really was inconsiderate of me. I mean, I should have just ignored them growing up and then tried to figure out where I screwed up along the way and made them threaten to flunk out of school–it seems to be working so well for you! And as for this last fever thing? Well, I can see your point–the doctors and their silly notes be damned, I was really just taking a mini-vacation, there was no reason on Goddess’ green earth for me to be absent earlier this week–no wonder your son can’t learn. I mean–I left sub plans for substitutes–how dare I? I should have been there, so your son could have continued to be rude, disrespectful and indifferent to me while I felt like complete shit, since obviously that’s what I’m there for.

So I’m sorry, Ms. O–I mean, it’s obvious that I suck and your little gang member is all that a teacher could ask for in a student. How could I ever think differently, than to expect the little fuckers to talk constantly while I’m talking, sneer openly at what I’m saying, and mock with mean spirited derision when I ask them how they expect to pass this class.

It’s obvious how your son expects to pass my class–he’s going to cry to his mommy.

Sincerely,

Ms. Lane