Where have you been? Where are you going? And why?
I advise a group of ten boys every day for twenty minutes. That alone should have elicited some sort of gasp of impossibility. For the Christmas season, we’ve been given the responsibility of decorating my classroom door. Try casting vision to twelve year old testosterone for Christmas scrapbooking. Then substitute for the scrapbook a public door that the entire school can see. The brainstorming session that transpired produced all of zero politically correct (if there is such a thing for Christmas anymore) or practical ideas. Burning cabins in the woods and smoking Santa Clauses firing machine guns just don’t encourage the genre of Christmas cheer that our school promotes. Of all the comical ideas, however, this one lit the tree.
“Wait, wait, wait. I’ve got it. Let’s draw a living room, a Christmas tree, and the Grinch lying in a pool of his own blood with little Susie standing over him!”
See Door Results