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Good Evening, Burkwood Hills Families—
Due to expected inclement weather, the Burkwood Hills school district is moving to a Flexible Instruction Day (FID) tomorrow. All students should log in virtually for instruction and follow their typical daily schedule. And by “typical daily schedule,” we mean an absolute clusterfuck of pleading and consequence-threatening to get your kids to do literally any of their required work while you also somehow do your job from home. You will break down emotionally and spiritually multiple times throughout the day and annoy everyone in your family.
Scheduled activities will include playing Twister with the cats in a pile of Magna-Tiles, crying, throwing half-eaten Uncrustables at the kitchen window, running manically through the house in pajamas, watching TV, more crying, and eating a gross ton of Z-Bars.
Students will log onto their twelve-year-old tablet with no power cord for a Zoom call with twenty other children, most of whom are screaming into their screens, asking what to do. Eventually, your child’s teacher’s exhausted face will appear and go through an inaudible PowerPoint presentation about addition or phonics that your child will utterly ignore. The teacher will then email you a worksheet. You will go through the worksheet with your child, who is now distracted by his brother hanging off the side of the table, throwing gobs of Fisher-Price slime at the dog, screaming, “I’m Spider-Man! I’m Spider-Man!” You will end up doing the worksheet in your child’s handwriting.
All afterschool and evening activities will proceed as scheduled. You cannot imagine what these might be, but they are likely attended by parents who have it more together than you. Parents on the PTA. Parents who hand out snacks at soccer games. Parents who make costumes for the school plays, even for kids who are not their own. That is not you—therefore, please disregard the announcement about afterschool and evening activities.
Why did you study the humanities in college? Why didn’t you do what your uncle suggested and go into engineering? Or study law like your mom wanted? Then you might have a high-paying job and could afford to send your children to private school, where snow days are probably spent at the museum appreciating fine art or planting trees. No, you had to study English literature, and you now teach at one of several dying colleges, shuttling between blank-walled classrooms and bussing home frantically to trade off with your spouse, who is attending to the nightmare of Flexible Instruction Day. The article you are supposed to be writing is not even half-done, and your kids are eating chocolate chips straight out of the bag.
What is wrong with you? When did your life become like this? Don’t even think about blaming the economy. Your single mother worked three jobs and helped you and your siblings with homework in the evenings. You started crying the other day because you couldn’t open a jar of banana peppers. There are parents fleeing from terrorism and war who manage to read their children stories before bed. Meanwhile, last night before bed, you watched three TikToks with your kids, and one of them had the word “fuck” in it
If you don’t get your shit together parenting-wise, your kids are going to start thinking that being a YouTuber is a viable career path. One day, they’ll have to go to an important dinner with their boss and be unable to eat anything but chicken nuggets, embarrass themselves, get fired, and die. They’ll forget how to read, which is probably impossible, but if any kids could test this limit, it’s them.
All staff, besides the facilities department, should feel free to work from home or come into the building if they like. Members of the facilities department should report to work based on virtual instruction protocol per their supervisor. Parents should fuck off and die but also make sure their children somehow complete a full day of schoolwork.
Thank you for your patience (lol),
BHSD Administration
