This Just In…
Rumor has it that we are going to be getting new seat sacks emblazoned with the school’s name and mascot. However, we will NOT be receiving any paper what-so-ever.
(For those of you fabulous readers who are not teachers, it has been brought to my attention that maybe you don’t know what a seat sack is….well, if I knew how to add a picture, I would add it. But I don’t. In lieu of a picture, a seat sack is a contraption made of canvas that slips over the back of a student’s chair like a slipcover. Think Pottery Barn for Teachers in primary colors. On the back of the chair, it has one large pocket big enough for folders, workbooks, notebooks, etc. and may also have smaller pockets good for pencils, markers, etc. They are pure genius. However, after a year of use, they become caked with pencil marks, and collect all sorts of small-child-related-crud. This is the non-genius part. And when they are washed, they smell like a wet dog who has been wet for two solid weeks and is starting to grow mold…and I know, ‘cuz I tried.)
Let us break this down, shall we?
1. Seat sacks are the bomb. Seriously, I heart them intensely not only for their increased storage capacity, but because they generally brighten up the room. Getting new seat sacks is pretty rad because it was only a few years ago that we were expected to take our stank, old, used and all-around-nasty seat sacks to the laundromat DOWN THE STREET and at our own expense…(wait for it)… wash them. Take a moment, and let that sink in, because it is truly awe-inspiring bullshit. So, new seat sacks? Score. We’ll put a point in the pro column.
2. Last year, the seat sacks that were ordered did not fit the actual chairs in most of our classrooms. We had to sweat, curse and throw all our body weight into wrangling them onto the chairs. It’s not a pretty picture, is it? I mean, I guess it’s too much to ask that perhaps someone MEASURE our chairs or put some THOUGHT into a rather expensive purchase order. Moral of the story here is My School Enjoys Blowing It’s Relatively Tight Load In Irrational And Avoidable Ways Rather Than Think Things Through For A Second. In other words, we now need to add a point to the minus column.
3. Some douche decided that it was a better idea to have the school name and mascot stitched onto each and every child’s seat sack rather than have paper. I think this one stands alone as complete idiocy. Essentially, the larger concern here was how each classroom APPEARS rather than what children are actually able to DO in said classroom. This type of concern is mandatory if you are a believer in the Dog and Pony Show, which evidently, we are. Perhaps this year I can teach my students fire dancing and we can really wow the crowds that come through. After all, we don’t have any of that flammable paper laying around. Yet another point in the minus column. (Back to the basement I go!!)
4. I am not going to be given any paper this year. In and of itself, this is ridiculous. However, there is more to it than that…oh yes. No paper means I do not get to make my own copies. (Although, when I’m honest about it, making my own copies kind of sucked because I had to do it on the crappy copier reserved for teachers located approximately three miles from my classroom in some dark dingy wing that no one goes to and may not even appear on a map of the school.) An inability to make my own copies equals total dependence on the asshats in the office who are in charge of the almighty photocopier that I am not allowed to touch or know the pass code to. This realization has caused me much pain in anticipation of receiving 13 copies instead of the requested 25. And then having to put in another request for an additional 12 copies. Each. And. Every. Time. I have been down this road before and am not looking forward to my return trip. And…another tally in the old minus column.
5. I just blew $120 at the teacher store. Now, I recognize that places like that are designed to suck vulnerable teachers in, forcing them to buy things they never knew they needed…but I thought I was above that. (sigh) What I should be admitting is, “Hi, my name is Mrs. Mimi and I’m addicted to school supplies, most things “wipe off”, and organizational tools.” I don’t know what column to chalk that one up to.