An open letter to Bruce's teacher

Dear Bruce’s Teacher:

You are truly a great teacher.  You do a fantastic job at a school where I’m so blessed my son is able to attend.  Keep up the excellent work.  I’m sure this is your first “real” teaching gig, and you’ve proven that you truly have a gift for imparting knowledge to young people.  Bruce is reading novels on grade level and can quote scripture like a Baptist preacher at a preacher at a tent revival.  You did that.  And you get all the commendation you deserve.

BUT….

You not only make me feel old, you’ve made me realize that I AM old. 

In photos you could and are mistaken for a high school student.  That’s OK.  I once was too – last century. 

This week one of the spelling words was “safety.”  Bruce kept leaving off the “e”.  I started singing the song “Safety Dance,” by Men Without Hats.  Sure enough, he learned to spell the word. 

Bruce asked, “I wonder if (my teacher) knows this song?”  Sadly, I had to answer, “No, no she wouldn’t know this song.  She wouldn’t know it because she was born in 1992!”  Bruce feigned looking shocked.  We convinced him not to mention how aghast we were at her age.

Last night she send an email about a dress code change.  She sent this at 9:57 pm.  Bless her young, precious little heart.  Call it a generational thing, but we Gen X’ers aren’t checking our email at 9:57.  If you need to communicate with us at that time, better choose another means.  And there are a fair amount of us, (David and Me) who have LOOOONG been asleep at 9:57. 

Keep up the good work.  Oh, and respect your elders and their music!

Sincerely,

Anne Cadle