So here’s the third in a series of satires about school closings. Last week, I poked a little bit of fun at overprotective parents who would have school closed for every little thing…and this week, I’m having a little fun with parents who always want to have school open, no matter what the cost.
Disclaimer: This is not to say that all parents who think the extent of snow days in the county is ridiculous are in favor of reckless endangerment. (Only some of them are.)
Admittedly, ‘Modest Proposal’ is sort of a misnomer–this is more of a satirical letter from a ‘hardcore’ parent to our county superintendent of schools. But it does make a proposal as to what the superintendent should do, or rather, should not do. Please, read on.
Dear Superintendent Maxwell,
I am writing to you, the County Superintendent of Schools, to tell you about the importance of educating our children. If I had received a quality education when I was younger, I would be smart enough to understand that I was preaching to the choir.
Superintendent Maxwell, our children need to go to school. If they don’t go to school they will get pregnant and become rappers. There is nothing more important than making sure that they get a good education, and that means we can’t be deterred by snow, slush, ice, or forest fires. After all, the northernmost states in this country are used to snow and avoid school closures due to inclement weather, and everyone knows the residents of Alaska are the most educated and worldly people in the country, and not just because their children can gain experience in Russian culture by looking right out their front window.
The school closures and delays of late have prevented our children from going to school and getting a good education, which is atrocious. I don’t care if the roads are buried under snow, covered in nails, or being used to film the next “Fast and Furious” sequel. Our children need to go to school and get a good education–potential injuries, death, car crashes, or lawsuits be damned. As God is my witness, they will learn geometry, dead or alive.
It’s not that I don’t value our children’s safety—I do. I just think the school is being needlessly overcautious. On a scale of 1 to “Jesus, Take the Wheel”, the roads haven’t been worse than a “3″ all winter. I don’t care if you get sued. I got sued once, it’s no big deal. Apparently taking your children’s friend’s monster truck driving is reckless endangerment. No one has any sense of adventure these days. Seriously, any kid would love to get in a bus crash on an icy road. He’d pretend he’s on Ice Road Truckers .
But I wouldn’t mind your being overcautious if all it did was make our kids little baby wussies. That’s your problem—which is saying a lot, because, as a US taxpayer, normally everything the government does is my problem. But what IS my problem is that the government is keeping my children from going to school and getting a good education and playing real life Ice Road Truckers .
Now, I know we can’t change the past few school closings. What’s done is done, and we shouldn’t worry about it. But what I would like to do is prevent nonsense like this from going on in the future, and that being said, Superintendent, I’ve heard a troubling rumor lately. I don’t know if you would actually do this, what with the importance of educating our children and all, but nonetheless my gut tells me not to put it past you.
The real purpose of this letter, Superintendent, is to try and dissuade you from closing school in the event of the apocalypse. I know it’s a tempting and easy way out, but if we pull our children out of school just because the world’s core is exploding, what next? And remember, if we pull our children out of school just because the universe is blowing up, we’ll have to push school further back into summer. No one wants that, do they?
Our bus drivers are more than capable to navigate through falling meteors. I’ve seen the buses this county drives around—if they can withstand a bunch of kids stomping up and down the aisles, they’ll have no problem with an earthquake and the fires of hell. Honestly, do you really think there’ll be even one road accident due to the spontaneous combustion of the sun? I bet your drivers won’t be able to tell the difference. To tell the truth, I think we’re sheltering kids too much these days—I used to walk twelve miles to school through smoldering nuclear fallout.
Superintendent, I don’t care if every teacher in the school just turned into a flesh-eating alien. If my child doesn’t learn how to conjugate Spanish verbs when you keep him home from school just because there’s a teeny little apocalypse going on outside, how is he going to create a universal language to be used by the handful of world survivors so that they can plan counterattacks against the army of giant Chihuahuas?
And don’t give me that crap about “conditions vary all around the county.” I know someone’s face in North County may be more melted than mine, but that doesn’t mean our kids don’t still need to go to school and learn math to compete in the new global primitive-bartering-of-charred-things system.
I’m simply sick of these unnecessary closings and delays. Maybe when there’s a foot of snow or an army of winged demons are attacking downtown, a delay is acceptable, as long as it’s on Tuesday because that’s when my kid has health in the morning and who really needs to take health?
There’s a word for what you’ve got, Superintendent. It’s called wimpiosis. But I’ve got good news. There’s a cure. Lots and lots of Red Bull, and always opening school no matter what, even when all the classrooms have disintegrated.
Because nothing is more important than kids getting to school on time.
Yours in hardcoreness,