And The Worst Teacher Award goes to…


The one who lost her kids at the fire drill. That would be me. Yesterday. Hoo-boy.

I am subbing in Middle School Math for three days. I have subbed in this class before, and I love it. The homeroom students are divided in half, and each grade-level section is taught twice. There’s some math for you right there. So, there are actually no more than fifteen kids in class at a time.

It was the end of the day. The second section of sixth grade was in my room. The fire drill buzzer sounded. The kids stood and exited. I shut one classroom door, grabbed the seating chart for roll check, exited the second door, and…no kids. I looked to my right, saw the back of a recognizable sixth grade head, and followed.

Oops. Wrong group. Now, where were the kids I was “in charge of?” To my left, half a block away, lined up with the very competent seventh grade teacher was my group. I was wearing a bright red sweater, and was very visible in searching for my kids. The principal directed me to the street, and chagrinned, I met up with my kids.

One of them said, “We should have waited for you, Mrs. Horton. Instead, we left you to burn in the fire. Sorry.” Yeah. Me, too.


About Horton Hears Herself

Here I am, listening to myself for the first time in my life! I like what I am hearing, most of the time. This time of listening to myself, discovering myself, and learning how to have my dream life is a rocky path with surprises, good and bad.

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