LAUGH
Ahhh, June. The sweet, sweet season when teachers can finally wear comfortable clothing and open-toed shoes and drink as many liquids as we want without worrying about holding it until the final bell.
Summer is here, and for a few incredible weeks, we trade lesson plans for vacation plans, the snooze alarm for afternoon naps, and grading papers for reading trashy novels by the pool.
Let’s be honest – we all love summer. Well, maybe not parents. But for teachers, it’s our sacred time to binge-watch Netflix guilt-free, catch up with friends, and alleviate our sleep and stress deficit for the school year.
So imagine my horror when I stroll into my local store for some well-deserved Chunky Monkey ice cream and microwave popcorn-essentials for my “White Lotus” marathon—and what do I see? Not pool noodles. Not sunscreen. But a full-blown, fluorescent-lit Back-to-School section staring me down like admin doing an impromptu observation on a Friday before a holiday break.
Rows and rows of dry erase markers, towers of Ticonderoga pencils, bins overflowing with glue sticks. All screaming in my head like a scene out of the movie, The Shining. Instead of Red-RUM, it’s REK-RAM=Markers
I start sweating. Dry heaving. Is that the scent of Expo markers in the air, or just my summer spirit disintegrating into nothingness?
Give us our time!!
Come on, big box stores. Leave us be. Can we please have our time to breathe easy? We’ve earned it. We cram 360 days of work into nine exhausting months of chaos, homework excuses, and unnecessary parental emails. At the very least, let us enjoy one, solid sunburn and a frozen margarita before bombarding us with LED signs screaming, “YOU ARE GOING BACK.”
Yes, I know—capitalism never sleeps. But guess what? Neither do teachers. From August to May, we consume more coffee than Starbucks customers during pumpkin spice season.
So forgive us if the sight of spiral notebooks in June triggers a fight or flight response. Honestly, this marketing move is backfiring. We don’t grab a cart; we grab our keys and walk right back out, heading straight to Baskin-Robbins, where we will be safe.
Ugh, commercials.
Teachers don’t exactly have room in our budgets for ad-free streaming, so we’re basically held hostage in our own living rooms. Just when we finally get cozy…fuzzy socks on, pet curled up nearby, snack in hand……Bam: a kid comes bounding across a sunlit lawn, backpack bouncing, as that painfully chipper jingle blares, “It’s the most wonderful time of the year!”
Um, no. No, it is not.
This is the most wonderful time of the year. No one’s asking us what to do, even though we’ve given directions twice. Our biggest decision is whether to watch one more episode or finally put down the bag of chips.
But now that is ruined by mainstream marketing. Our blissful, carefree days are interrupted by too-early reminders that we must prepare for our return during our break. We start advertising for the holidays before Halloween now, so I guess this is expected.
But c’mon already.
Can summer be summer?
Back-to-school season will arrive soon enough. We know that. We are not in denial. Well, maybe we are a little. But until then, leave us alone with our snacks, our streaming, and our delusion that summer will last forever.
Respect the break.
Keep the season sacred. We will reward you by buying all of your Back-to-School Bargains…
Wait for it…
At the end of August. Please, and thank you.
Signed,
Teacher Everywhere
And don’t even get me started on the back-to-school TV commercials. Some kid joyfully skipping in slow motion with a backpack bouncing on their shoulders while a perky voice chirps, “It’s the most wonderful time of the year!” Excuse me?! The most wonderful time is RIGHT NOW—when I can go three full days without hearing someone ask to go to the bathroom two minutes after recess.
We’re still in recovery mode. Let us mourn our broken markers and broken spirits in peace. We’ve got at least four more weeks of flip-flops, naps, and not answering to anyone under four feet tall. Can we just be for a moment without getting PTSD flashbacks from the sight of wide-ruled notebooks?
So please, Big Box Stores, chill. You’ll get our money soon enough. But until then, let us live our best lazy lives. Let us have our hammocks, our iced coffees, our poolside peace.
Because, come August, we’ll be back. With cartloads of supplies and the thousand-yard stare of a person who’s mentally preparing to hear “Ms. Smith, he breathed on me!” 47 times a day.
Until then, step away with your bulletin board borders and your “Classroom Must-Haves.”
We must-have a break. And we are taking it.
With sass, sunscreen, and a firm NOPE,
A Teacher Who Just Wants to Finish Her Popsicle in Peace 🍦😎
