Gangbanging the school teacher

My sister-in-law, a very nice person, is studying to be a school teacher. She showed up late  at a party where me and my like-minded friends had been drinking, pontificating and sorting the world into buckets (those who should be killed, those who must be killed and those must must be forced to kill those who should be killed). 

Actually, we were talking about how all parents of schoolchildren had been dragged into a meeting where the school board told them to pick which programs were to be killed because of budget problems. These cunts who run most school boards and condo associations think that Sophie’s Choice is an inspiring way to motivate people. But that’s for another post.

40% of the budget being spent was on 118 “special needs” kids and was sacrosanct. I don’t know how many kids are in this school district–it’s suburban Seattle, so 50,000 is probably a low guess.

Another thing off the table was bussing kids who lived a mile away from the school, another 20% of the total budget. What was left in the “discretionary” budget?

AP was on the chopping block, so were all sports. Anything that normal, average, talented, or most people care about was on the get-shot-in-the-head list.

Until my SIL showed up, we were just gently wondering if perhaps the mission of the public schools had become a little skewed toward the needs of the fat and stupid. Ok, actually, I think we were guffawing about they should suffocate the stupid by having the fat sit on them and then we could spend all that money on the ultimate  trip to Vegas.

She sat down in the middle of our conversation and in about 15 seconds said, “Oh, maybe I should go over there.” She was right. She should have gone over there. Instead she tried to de-Neanderthalize us en passant on her way to “over there.”

She started using terms like “vulnerable communities” and “heterogeneous somethingorothers” and telling us about how most special needs kids couldn’t even get on the short bus without somebody having to turn them over to keep them from getting bedsores.

So we slaughtered her. I started it. I’m not proud of it, but it had to be done.

She was OFFENDED that anyone would disagree with her.  She was absolutely sure that she was right. Because she’s learning how to be compassionately and meaninglessly multisyllabic in her community college classes taught by people as dumb as my 5th grade teachers.

The crap they teach these kids who want to teach our kids.

Last year, she was bitching about having to do group projects and getting punked by all the lazy 19 year olds in her group, because they left her to do everything. This year, it’s “vulnerable communities.”

In the ’60’s they’d have called this being coopted or selling out.

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