Oh, Okay, Sure. February.

There was this time in America’s history when substitute teachers were like marshmallow bunny peeps. They were devoured by students with ease and surprisingly little pleasure. It was too easy to dissolve their enthusiasm for a career in education.

Whatever happened to American kids from the time this fresh batch of teachers was in high school to the time they started their careers was definitely not positive. We were toxic, mean, ruthless, and violent.

I watched the take down of many substitutes. Though I don’t remember actively participating, I never thought to stick up for the victims of these savage attacks. After all, who decides teaching the children of the 80’s is a good life choice? People who cry easily, apparently.

One lady, so it was rumored, actually checked herself into Harborview.

We. Were. Awful.

Sometimes, we got a fighter. At least, that’s what they said to themselves in the mirror before leaving for work. Sometimes, they got a good one knock in before their little ears were nibbled off.

The only ones who survived were the ones who rolled out the TV and VHS player, turned out the lights, and hit “play.”

It feels like the current political climate is math class in 1989 and we got a substitute who hasn’t seen The Breakfast Club and has no idea how awful their day is about to get.