The Boxer

Hello and welcome to my blog. This is the first post that I have made in realtime, the rest is me writing what has happened in my paper journal.

I am currently getting ready for my second year at school. It is August 7th. I am very excited because I am going to a presidential candidate forum tonight at Soldier Field.

I am scrambling to lesson plan and to get a plan for soccer practice. I have had a couple of hiccups though.

A lot of it is my fault. I made a trip to San Diego when I knew that I had work to do. The first three weeks of the summer were completely wasted, me lying on my ass like I would never teach again, drinking and watching television.

Two days ago I returned from San Diego. At the Kansas City airport a man sat down next to me and struck up a conversation. When I told him that I was a history teacher, he paused, and then said "All they do is teach my son about niggers. Nigger this and nigger that. Why don't they teach about how they acted at the game in Los Angeles (He meant the NBA all star game in Los Vegas)."
It is very difficult to decide how to respond to this. I could just tell him what I think: fuck off, but that does not change anything. So I took a more moderate approach, telling him that the majority of students were black, and that I didn't use that word. I then told him how much I enjoyed teaching my students, how I identified with them from a white rural background more than I would with white suburban students. But basically the conversation was over.

Then I scrambled to get home in order to go to a party. The party was going really well until a boxer was let out, and it bit me in the face. This is devastating for me since my life long dream is to model for Raulph Lauren or Burberry and now I think the dream is over.

Since you all do not have a picture of me, I have to tell you that my modeling dream was a joke and very funny to me. The only things I could probably model right now are PBR and bacon.

The scars might help with classroom management though.