I hope that you've come to expect certain things from this blog. An individual data point in the messy scatterplot of classroom experience. A single hydrogen ion, so to speak, in the intimidating nebula of the education reform movement. Just one extended metaphor in the bad love poem of Teach for America.
What I mean to say is that I try to personalize these impossibly large issues, and share my small, biased, flawed thoughts to serve as an impetus for identification with, and debate over, the experience of the teacher immersed in the world of TFA and education reform. I try to provide intellectualism in the best sense of that word: depth without myopia; rigor without insertion of the proverbial head where the sun refuses to shine. Also I include jokes and silly pictures.
Like this one.
But today, f*** that. There are maggots...
...in the staff bathroom.
For the past several months I have been watching the maggots go through their entire life cycle. They hatched from some sort of egg-like thing, grew, molted, grew some more, and emerged as half-inch long, terrifyingly large flies. Now, they flies have presumably reproduced and created more maggots.
The best part about being in the staff bathroom with the maggots is that the lights turn off if you don't move -- which is fairly normal for a bathroom -- but in this case, they turn off after two seconds, and the sensor has a rather stringent definition of "movement". Suffice it to say that while peeing (or heaven forbid...), one has to sort of dance back and forth, or else you get left in the dark with wriggling monstrosities that drop from the ceiling and have literally hatched in front of my eyes.
That is all.