On a snowy and shockingly cold morning in April, I chose to take the day off rather than be forced to provide teaching services to a dreadful classroom in our building, while abandoning mandated language services to my own students. Forced substitute teaching.
My body, soul and spirit toerates this outrage no longer.
State testing began today and the head of the school was away on a cruise. Subbing disorder was assigned to underlings and teachers left behind in the cold.
Exceptional optics. Wisdom beyond measure…
I commenced reading a book about the Irish potato famine and something akin to Irish anger rose up in me. I remembered my own heritage and gradually equated the gross incompetence of educational systems and vacationing bureaucrats to the landed gentry in Ireland and the bumbling English…the fools who allowed millions to starve.
Rebellion surged within me and I resolved to make a crockpot of potato soup; a salient answer to anger and plunging temperatures and as I had no fresh potatoes, I opened the stuffed freezer and pulled out a sack of frozen ‘Potatoes O’Brien’.
Indeed.
God is in His Heaven…
690 Saint Paul 