The most exciting thing that happened today

On March 6, 2026 By Luther M. SilerIn idiocyLeave a comment

I have made this observation in three different places so far, which is almost certainly more than it deserves: the most impressive thing about the Big Arch I had for lunch today is that it looks exactly like every picture of the Big Arch that McDonald’s has been using to advertise it. If you eat at restaurants at all you know how ridiculously uncommon that is. The review: pretty damn tasty, almost too big, although I could still taste it three hours later and I suspect my breath may still slightly smell of onions.

This week was utter madness.

Two different two-hour fog delays, which led to me talking for five hours straight on Thursday, as everything I had planned for that day had to be compressed into two hours less class time, meaning I did nothing but lecture the entire day. This is not a thing I do. I was so tired when I got home I forgot to take my Mounjaro shot, which has been a regular Thursday thing for at least a year now. Today they took the test I was doing the guided notes for yesterday; I still have two classes to grade, but early indications are that the bed appears to not have been shit in. Monday and Tuesday were it’s getting warm and there’s a full moon behaviors and Wednesday was an e-learning day and tons of meetings.

Y’all, I am exhausted. And all of this is before we get to the bit where the fucking world set itself on fire more than once in the last couple of weeks– have I even used the word “Iran” on this blog yet? How long ago was the first attack? It could have been anything from yesterday to a month ago at this point; I’m so fried I can’t even tell. The second-dumbest guy in the Senate is apparently getting promoted? Gas prices have shot up by a dollar a gallon since I filled the tank on Monday.

Oh, and while I’ve generally tried not to talk too much about some of the medical issues my son has been having, for probably-obvious reasons, I cannot pass up mentioning that he was prescribed a nasal spray this week for migraines that are somehow in his abdomen, and no part of me is capable of dealing with the fact that that sentence represents something real and is not word salad.

So naturally tomorrow we’re going to tear down a wall in the bedroom. Wish me luck.

I’m sure it’ll be fine.

Today: Also garbage

On March 5, 2026 By Luther M. SilerIn Uncategorized1 Comment

Today has been one of those days where absolutely nothing, nothing at all, has gone right, and I absolutely and thoroughly Cannot right now. Sorry.

So far in 2026…

On March 4, 2026 By Luther M. SilerIn life, Teaching1 Comment

The older brother of a kid in my building was murdered by the police.

A former student was shot a couple of miles from school and may be paralyzed for life.

And just yesterday another former student was arrested for murder. Despite being a minor the police are releasing his name all over the fucking place.

Oh, and another younger brother of former students who would have been one of mine in a couple of years got airlifted to a hospital in Indianapolis today for unspecified reasons and is expected to be gone “indefinitely.”

I have a doctor’s appointment in a couple of weeks and she’s going to ask me about my mental health. I’m going to have to lie.

Conversations with students

On March 3, 2026March 5, 2026 By Luther M. SilerIn TeachingLeave a comment

Second hour, my Algebra class. Supposedly the smart ones. I overhear one of my boys listing off ingredients.

“Stop looking up the Big Arch and do your math.”

The boys at the table exchange glances.

“How did you know that was the ingredients for the Big Arch?”

“I’m fat. Do your work.”

During sixth hour, I have to explain to a student that we have a “turn off the lights and hide” policy during lockdown drills because it is, in fact, a better idea for 800+ kids to be quiet and hiding during an emergency than jumping out the windows and running away, which is what he suggests the right idea would be.

He points out that most school shooters are students of the school (a fact I’m not completely sure of, but whatever) and that they would surely know which classes had students in them and would not be fooled by darkness and silence.

I ask him “Does Mrs. So-and-so have a fourth hour class?”

“Why would I know that?”

Today’s assignment has sixteen “real” questions and, just so that the points end up as a multiple of 10, which I care about for no reason, I include four questions taken from preschool standards, just to give the grades a little bump for the hell of it. Four students miss at least one of these questions and I have to explain to one of them, a native English speaker, what “fewer” means.

A teacher is absent and I am covering her homeroom, which means that both classes will be in my room at the same time. My prep period is fourth hour which is right before Advisory. A student knocks on my door at the beginning of fourth hour.

“I’m in Mrs. Such-and-so’s class.”

“I’m covering her advisory, not her fourth hour.”

“But <other adult> told me to come here.”

“There is a literal sign on her door saying that her Advisory class should come to me. Not her fourth hour. I’m not covering her fourth.”

“What should I do?”

“Mrs. Whatshername is covering her fourth. So if they aren’t in Mrs. So-and-so’s room they’re probably in her class. Go look and see if there’s a sign on the door.”

She repeats that the other adult told her to come to me.

I step out of the way and grandly reveal the empty classroom.

“There are no other students in here. I’m not sure what else I can tell you.”

She stares at me.

I close the door.

A student tells me she wants a rat and a snake as pets. I ask if she plans to put them in the same cage. She says she might have to since “there’s not enough room.” I ask what she means.

There are four humans, four cats, and three dogs living in her home. The dogs are a pit bull mix, some sort of dog with the word “mountain” in the name, and a St. Bernard. She lives in a trailer.

I had at least one more when I was prewriting this. If I remember what it was I’ll add it in. This was a ridiculous day.

I’m a loser, baby

On March 2, 2026March 2, 2026 By Luther M. SilerIn idiocy, Teaching2 Comments

I considered not posting tonight; after all, if I’m going to lose one significant streak, I may as well lose more than one, but here I am nonetheless. I’ve already disappointed myself, surely I can’t follow that up by disappointing my adoring public.

Shut up, yes you are. And yes you do.

I am … superstitious isn’t the right word, but I can’t for the life of me figure out what it is– in exactly one way: I’m fully convinced that full moons fuck kids up. To wit, as I was leaving work today, someone mentioned that tomorrow was the full moon, and suddenly the utter fucking ridiculousness of my day just clicked. Like, oh, of course there’s a full moon. You were in that classroom. You saw those kids. And that’s the thing; when I walk into my day entirely unaware of the phase of the moon, experience the psychotic behavior from my lovely lil’ dipshits, and then find out that’s what was going on? That’s evidence, dammit. I shouted one room into twenty minutes of complete silence today. I’ve had such a good year that these kids have barely heard me raise my voice at all, so when I do lose my temper it gets a real reaction.

There are days where I simply can’t make this shit any simpler, and today was one of them. “See this number? See this number? Divide them shits. Make sure this one’s on top.” That was it. Calculating scale factors just isn’t that hard. And my third hour in particular made it abundantly clear that every second of my instruction had literally just passed through their heads like a neutrino through aerogel, leaving not a fucking trace of a mark behind. There’s only so many times I can be asked questions which I have literally just answered before I lose my shit, and asking a room full of fourteen-year-olds what three divided by one was and getting “one” and “four” as answers– this is not a fucking joke, it really happened– was the last straw.

I don’t give a damn if your parents tell you to go to school. You’re clearly already used to being a disappointment; what’s one more thing? If this is all the effort I’m going to get out of y’all, you can go. The office is down the hall. I’m not even going to write you up. Just fuck off. Go home, go to hell, I don’t care which. You aren’t entitled to my fucking oxygen if you’re not going to be a student.

Bah.