On a snowy and shockingly cold morning in April, I stayed home, choosing to take the day off rather than be forced to provide teaching and/or babysitting services to a dreadful classroom in our building, while having to abandon the mandated language services to my own students. My body, soul and spirit can tolerate this outrage no longer.
State testing started today and the head of the school was away on a cruise, leaving the subbing scramble and disorder to underlings and teachers left behind in the cold. Exceptional optics. Wisdom beyond measure…
I sat down to continue reading a book about the Irish potato famine and something akin to Irish anger rose up in me as I remembered my own heritage and I finished a chapter, gradually equating the gross incompetence of educational systems and vacationing tone deaf bureaucrats to the landed gentry in Ireland and the bumbling English…the fools who allowed millions to starve.
Out of sheer rebellion, I resolved to make a crockpot of potato soup as an answer to anger and the 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 