I try to no longer pay attention to the news, mainly because hearing about the latest evidence of society's mind-numbing stupidity usually raises my blood pressure to severely unhealthy levels. However, I could not escape the circus freakshow which took place this past few weeks in Chicago. I'm talking about the teacher's strike, of course.
Now, for those of you who haven't kept up with the story, here's the scoop in a nutshell. Chicago is home of some of America's worst-educated children (roughly 40% of the students don't even graduate). The teachers, who are already getting paid $76,000 a year (plus benefits), decided that they deserved more money for doing such pitiable work. There was also the fear that once Chicago closed down some of the city's worst schools, many teachers would find themselves out of a job. The teachers are opposed to the concept that their salary increases and job security should be tied to student test scores and academic performance.
And this is why I believe that every one of these lame-brained so-called "educators" should be horse-whipped and left to rot in prison.
A striking teacher is committing child abuse. That's right, folks. These teachers were hired to perform a job, and that job is to educate children.... something impossible to do when the schools are shut down for two weeks while the teachers demand more money and less accountability. Meanwhile, the kids are being deprived of their right of an education. In other words, the teachers are causing intentional truancy. Back in my day, truancy was a serious matter. We even had truancy officers who came to our homes, latched onto our earlobes, and physically dragged us back to class. Ironically, such an action today would be labeled as child abuse, while the real abusers (teachers) are rewarded with a pay increase. And people wonder why the world is going to hell in a handbasket, and why our children are as dumb as a bucket of rocks!
And what of this performance-based pay outrage?
If you're a teacher, listen up. Here in the real world, the rest of us don't get promotions when we are completely inept at our jobs. In the real world, we get a pink slip when we louse things up. And incompetency doesn't even begin to describe the situation in Chicago, where the average high school student has a greater chance of being appointed the next Pope than graduating and going on to college.
When a teacher whines about how her salary should not be tied to student achievement, it's like a chef whining that his culinary worth should not be based on the taste of his food. "It's not my fault the food tastes so lousy," he might say. "Blame it on the restaurant owner for not giving me the ingredients I need," he might say. "Blame it on the customers and their unrefined palate," he might say. But at the end of the day, it's the chef who's in the kitchen with the pots and the pans, not the owner or the customer. Likewise, it's the teachers who have the duty to educate the students.
Many of the teachers were angry about the large class sizes and lack of textbooks and other supplies. Well, get over it. Imagine how absurd it would be to hear a pro baseball player trying to justify his pathetic batting average by saying, "It's not my fault I was 0 for 6 today. There were too many fans in the stands! And I couldn't find the right bat in the dugout, so I had to use one of the old bats from last season."
Imagine a football quarterback using the Chicago teachers' excuse- "It's not my fault I completed only one pass attempt! There were just so many players on the field, and the crowd was too noisy. If the owner of the team wasn't such a cheapskate and gave me a brand-new Schutt Ion 4D helmet (with thermoplastic urethane cushioning), I know I could've completed more passes! Plus, the stadium really needs new turf. How can anyone expect me to throw a football when I'm standing on such bad turf?"
Ridiculous.
Only in a magical universe where unicorns vomit Skittles and poop rainbows would the slumping baseball player or bumbling quarterback be rewarded with a fat juicy raise!
Well dip my jockstrap in Icy Hot and call me Mr. Happynuts, I guess Chicago is that magical universe!
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