Please don’t tell her where I am.
I am a pencil in hiding.
I know this sounds weak, especially coming from something crafted to be a bold problem-solver, but this sharp, eager learner wants nothing to do with Betsy DeVos.
I’ve jumped from JanSport backpack to Vineyard Vines tote, from classroom floor to locker room shower. I’ve rolled down yellowing halls from the theatre building to the science wing. I’ve even sheltered myself in Mr. Borofsky’s pants back pocket. I will not let Betsy DeVos find me.
Betsy DeVos is an abomination to education. She is as useful as a split lead refill. As flustered as an un-oriented SMART Board™. As qualified as a classroom guinea pig that eats its own feces.
I would rather a mechanical pencil be Secretary of Education. A mechanical pencil. Everyone knows woods and mechanicals have a Hatfields vs. McCoys-minus-the-Civil-War thing going on, but I would rather have a clicky pencil than a cliquey pawn.
I would rather waste away in a raggedy Happy Bunny pencil case than be used as a tool of destruction.
Half of the Senate voted against her—that’s like getting picked last for kickball on a national scale. Last I checked, 50% is failing. Mike Pence may have given DeVos a bonus point, but we all know bonus points are for teacher’s pets and people who like puns.
Sometimes I think about putting myself all the way through the sharpener.
Betsy DeVos wants school choice, but what if schools don’t want her? The American education system has more flaws than an essay for Spanish class that’s been fed through Google Translate. Betsy DeVos only adds fuel to that fire. Speaking of fire, she’s probably burned books.
The Secretary of Education, in many regards, holds the fate of the nation’s children in its hands. I trust Betsy DeVos with kids like I trust myself to sign a check. I know my place as a pencil; she should be wise enough to know her place as a religious billionaire zealot.
If Betsy DeVos is the answer, then I don’t want to write it down.
Me in better times.