DIXIE DELIRIUM: Ramblings On The Fine Art And Act Of Teaching
Extra Credit Reading: I Was A Wide-Eyed Substitute Teacher, Too, Before All This Got Started
A DIXIE DIARY: The Spring Semester Of My Rookie Year
Is Teaching Fun?
Old Burrell Almost Killed Me In High School Lit Class. Now I'm What You Call His Colleague
Classroom Confidential: Bodily Funktions
Teachers Have To Write Essays, Too. Here's 932 Southern-Fried & True Words Of My Own
Essay A Go-Go: What's Up With Them Adults?
Rebel Yell: Give Todd A Holler

May 24

“I hadn’t thought,” Ruby said.

“Nobody thinks anymore,” Mr. Jerger complained.

“I got to be going.”

“Yes, it’s been found,” Mr. Jerger said.

“Where at?” Ruby asked.

—“A Stroke of Good Fortune,” by Flannery O’Connor


Dear Dixie,

While I was sitting at my desk in the back reading the big city newspaper while exams were being taken by more victims of learning, Beauregard walked in to turn in his textbook. 

We exchanged pleasantries, but I didn’t ask Beauregard where he should really be right now … what exam should he be taking right now … because sometimes, honestly, you don’t want to know.  You just don’t want to know and it feels pretty good when you get to the point in your experience as a teacher when you know when you don’t want to know something.

Beauregard said even though he doesn’t know how to speak or understand the Cherokee language could he have unlimited access to The Globe of Happiness anyway for the rest of his life, please.

Beauregard said please.  He really did.

While five other Georgia History scholars watched us, with jaws dropped, I granted unlimited access to The Globe of Happiness to Beauregard for the rest of his life, because he said please, and then I thought to ask where he was going to school next year for ninth grade.

He said right here.  Beauregard said he’d been coming to this school since first grade and there wasn’t any reason to change things now.



Next Entry ... May 25: Lost And Unsound