“You have your own horse?”
“Well, I have one, and my sister has one.”
“Wow. You must be rich.”
“We’re not afraid to spend our money.”
– A conversation that occurred between two 2nd graders
Overheard in the Art Room Overheard in the Art Room II“You have your own horse?”
“Well, I have one, and my sister has one.”
“Wow. You must be rich.”
“We’re not afraid to spend our money.”
– A conversation that occurred between two 2nd graders
Overheard in the Art Room Overheard in the Art Room II“Being an art teacher looks like so much fun. I should have been an art teacher.”
Okay, I know we all signed a blood-pact to automatically and immediately express disdain towards people who say things like this to us, but I couldn’t, guys, I just couldn’t. You see, the woman who said this to me was one of our Autism teachers. I think we can all agree that Autism teachers are some of the hardest working teachers in the building, and I highly doubt they would describe much of their job as “fun”. I have the utmost respect for special education teachers. Their job is hard and very, very time consuming. So yeah, I let this one slide. And I let it slide the next time she made a similar comment.
On the other hand, a 3rd grade teacher had this to say to me today…
“I don’t know how you do it. I could never teach art… all those steps and materials. I couldn’t do it.”
Thank you! It’s not easy. Yes, it can be “fun”, but it’s not easy.
In related, I-can’t-believe-they-said-that news, our assistant principal expressed today that communication with the “specialists” needs to improve because we teach all the grades and it’s not fair for us to be left out of the loop. Or something to that affect.
What’s going on, guys? Is there a blue moon that I’m not aware of?
Hey.
Hey!
HEY, KID!
Can you not hear me saying hello to you? Can you not see me waving to you?
Don’t you know who I am!?!
I was your art teacher last year in third grade…
and the year before, in second grade…
and the year before that, in first grade…
So what’s the deal? You’re in fourth grade now, you have a different art teacher, and all of a sudden you can’t say hello to me in the hallways anymore? What, do you have amnesia? Are you too cool to say hi?
Did the last three years not mean anything to you!?!
I get it. That’s cool. Whatever. No big deal. I’ll see you in my room again in a couple of years, and then we’ll see who’s waving at whom, Jack. Then we’ll see.
What’s that? … No, that doesn’t sound right. Are you sure? … Well, I guess you would know. Fine, we’ll see who’s waving at whom, John.
Just a quick note to let you know that the finalists for the AOE 2013 Art Ed Blog of the Year have been announced. There were many, many awesome bloggers selected, and yes, Art Teachers Hate Glitter was one of them (thank you). Don’t take my word for it, go check it out for yourself, but don’t leave first without voting.
Here’s the thing about being funny, it ain’t easy. Maybe for some people it is, and I imagine those people live their lives as comedians and humor writers, but I’m just an art teacher, and truth be told, I’m not that funny.
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| There are no Band-Aids for hurt feelings |
My humor comes from a dark place. Not the darkest of places, but a dark place nonetheless. It’s rooted in cynicism, bitterness and skepticism. I use humor to cope with undesirable situations. I use humor to connect with others and say the things that everyone else is afraid to say. We’re all thinking it, but no one would ever actually say these things that I say. These things are bold, they’re brash, a little offensive, often snarky and politically incorrect, but always truthful.
Take, for example, my 20 Things An Elementary Art Teacher Will Never Tell You post. This post is, by far, my most popular, most visited, and most commented on post. This post put me on the map, if you will. Why? Because deep down inside, most of you, dare I say all of you, can relate to this post. At one point or another, you have thought these things, but have never had the balls to say it out loud.