June, July, and August
I had the great fortune to be surrounded by the most delightful, creative, and kind elementary school teachers when I was a child. They lived and breathed teaching. It was just who they were: Teacher. They were heavenly. At least, it seemed so to me. Imagine my surprise when one of these delightful teachers wore a sweatshirt to school which proudly proclaimed: Three Reasons I Teach: June, July, August. WHAT? I was still adjusting to the realization that teachers didn't sleep at school. Even learning that they went to the bathroom was distressing. Now I was confronted with the idea that they also had summer breaks. And they enjoyed them?! How could they survive deprived of the presence of their adorable pupils? Who would lead them in the Pledge of Allegiance in the morning, or offer to hold their hand in the hallway? I was actually quite offended by that sweatshirt. With considerable effort, I overlooked it. After all, I loved my teachers so dearly. * * * Decades later I ...
