Being a G-Rated Teacher Sucks

Third grade teachers don’t ever to go to the bathroom, and we certainly don’t swear. On some days I feel like Mary Poppins, when at heart I’m really Dr. House. But high school is a whole different ball game. When my son, Ian, walked into his art class on the first day of school, his teacher, Ms. Thurber, didn’t mince words. She’d been there, done that, and had the t-shirt to prove it.

She informed the class, “I don’t care who is gay, or who you think is gay. Just don’t carve it on the tables.”  She continued, “And if you feel like writing a note that says,  ‘F&ck Ms. Thurber,’ you can throw it over there on that pile with all the others.”

In a Dr. House vs. Ms. Thurber match-up, my money would be on the old girl. You gotta love a teacher who tells it like it is, but then I teach third grade. Would anyone like a spoonful of sugar?

Photo Credit:  Dr. House by sweetxandxbitter on flickr.