Here are three things I suppressed the urge to say in my classroom this week:
1. “You keep complaining that I’m not fair. Let me tell you something my dad told me when I was your age: ‘Life’s not fair. That’s why there are different bra sizes.'”
2. “You are a 17-year-old freshman. I am willing to entertain the possibility that you could be smarter than I am, but the preponderance of evidence does not support this theory.”
3. “Sweetie, if every man who dresses better than you do were gay, humanity would be at serious risk of extinction.”
I love my students. I really do. But honestly: I could park a Peterbilt in some of the openings they leave me.