Friday, February 13, 2009
an open letter K---, from my 3rd hour class,
No, I will not be your valentine.

I’ve told you this once already and in person; however, since you are so persistent – asking me several times throughout this past week – allow me to formally lay out my reasoning: 1) It is illegal, as you are only seventeen and I am…not. 2) Even if it weren’t illegal, it’s unprofessional. 3) I’m married. 4) It’s icky. 5) You are not particularly strong in English, which has always sort of been requisite to earn my affection.

This is not, of course, to say that I do not appreciate your effort. Placing a box of conversation hearts on my desk was a sweet, old school touch. And the hand-made card was nice, although I would have really preferred you’d been listening to the lecture I was giving rather than spending the hour drawing me a picture of a chubby dragon cuddling a heart. But here’s the deal, K--- - it’s not like you’re the first kid to ever ask me, and if I didn’t acquiesce to that one kid who serenaded me on his guitar to John Mayer’s “Your Body in a Wonderland” five years ago, then I’m certainly not going to give in to you.

So - once again - no, I will not be your valentine. I will, however, be eating your conversation hearts.

Mrs. White



Blogger PAK said...

About half of your teaching posts make me want to quit my job and go back to school to get a teaching job, and about half horrify me beyond belief. Both convince me that teachers aren't paid enough by half.

At least I wouldn't have to worry about being stalked by the students.

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