I’ve got to get something off my chest. Something that’s really stuck in my craw, like a beef jerkey fragment wedged between my bicuspids.
What’s the point of becoming a teacher if nobody is ever going to call me Teach?
I literally spent thousands of dollars on grad school for my M.A., hundreds of hours in class or mired in homework all while working full time for the years 2002-2004, and now I’m stuck looking like an idiot because nobody calls me Teach. What gives?
Maybe it could be something simple:
“Yo Teach, what’s up?”
“What’s happening, Teach!”
Or something derisive*:
“Hey Teach, go home!”
“Shut up, Teach!”
Or maybe something altogether different:
“More applesauce, Teach?”
“Yo Teach, you’re bleeding.”
“Hey Teach, my dog got run over.”
I guess I just can’t catch a break. I suppose I’ll just go put the BB gun in my mouth again.