Serving Tee: Mac & Cheese

Serving Tee, February 2022

Here’s some Sunday dinner Tee:

It is often assumed that Black folk are naturals in the kitchen.
And we are.

It is rarely acknowledged that cooking, is an art. Craft.
Here’s some acknowledgement:

Thomas Jefferson is credited with popularizing Macaroni and Cheese in the South.

We know Thomas wan’t in the kitchen stirring a béchamel sauce.

That would be James Hemings.

James Hemings an enslaved man, was Jefferson’s valet, chauffeur, and chef during the late 18th century in Monticello. In the Spring of 1783, by Jefferson’s command, Hemings trained under a French chef in Annapolis, before undergoing even more training with chefs of five star kitchens of 18th century France.
After his training, he became the head chef at Jefferson’s palace in Paris, where he supervised a French-speaking staff for Jefferson’s extravagant dinners.
Find out more at @jameshemingsorg

Stoop and Stank wrapped this lesson up in this feel good hoodie. Go ahead and grab yourself a reminder of history.

Serving Tee: Nah

The other day I was minding my own Black bidness #onhere serving the serve.
This white boy commented.
Something to the tune that the collective white we didn’t care.

And rather than read him about the time he took to inform me that he didn’t care blah blah rhetoric, I just blocked his ass.

Because, Nah.
You don’t get my peace. Or access.

I honestly don’t remember where I got the tee. I’ve never tagged it so Im thinking it wasn’t a Black shirtmaker.

And also?? I gotta full nappy ponytail. With no product.
Just a lil mo Black Excellence to sweeten the tee.

Five Ways to Irk Your Middle School Teacher

I love my students.  God knows I do.

But they get on my gotdawg nerves.  Somedays, I go home completely outdone and as Darrel J. Hunt says, “You can’t outdo black people”.  He was wrong.  I am a black people, and these pubescent beings, at the end of the day, leave me outdone.

Whether it’s the after-recess smell, their refusal to stop talking in class, or like not even 5 minutes into writing this, grabbing and bouncing their chesticles, they leave me outdone.

I fully realize that this may be putting the nail in my coffin, but here goes:

Five Ways to Irk Your Middle School Teacher

5.  Say “hi” to everytime you see them. I mean, everytime.  When you come in in the morning. When you go to the bathroom and return to the classroom. When you pass them in the hallway. If you look away, and look back up at them, say hi.  Hey, is jut as irksome. Why you ask?

BECAUSE WE SEE YOU.  ALL DAY. IN CLASS. WE TAKE ATTENDANCE AND WE KNOW YOU’RE HERE. WE DON’T NEED THE HELLO GREETING ALL DAY. AND HONESTLY, WE DON’T WANT TO HAVE MEANINGLESS EXCHANGES, WHICH “HI” AT 2:30, IS.

 

        Don’t Do That

4. Talk about things that have absolutely nothing to do with the assignment, during class. If you’re in English, talk about that one time when your auntie bought a dress for her birthday,

and she thought it was lit, but really, she looked like a sausage.  Math class? Don’t talk about exponents.  Uh unh.  Rather, talk about how you’re going to go shopping for the latest LeBrons after school, because your uncle forgot to get you something for your birthday which was over two months ago. Yeah, that’ll do it.

Why?

BECAUSE IT TAKES AWAY FROM INSTRUCTION TIME. AND QUITE HONESTLY, IF YOU’RE NOT BANGING OUT STRAIGHT A’s AND ALL THE EXTRA CREDIT, THEN YOU REALLY DON’T HAVE TIME TO BE TALKING ABOUT CLOTHES AND SHOES. AUNTIES OR UNCLES. IT’S MATH. ENGLISH. NOT FASHION FILES OF THE FORGOTTEN RELATIVES. AND, THAT’S NOT GOING TO BE ON YOUR QUIZ THIS FRIDAY.

 

3. Complain that the assignment is too much work, no matter what the assignment is.

Why?

LISTEN. MOST IF NOT ALL OF YOUR TEACHERS HAVE AT LEAST, 16 YEARS OF EDUCATION UNDER THEIR BELTS. THIS MEANS 16 YEARS OF LISTENING, READING, WRITING, SORTING, MATH AND CRITICAL THINKING. SOME OF US, ACTUALLY HAD TO GO TO THE LIBRARY, FIND BOOKS, AND LOOK UP WHAT WE WANTED TO KNOW. ENCYCLOPEDIAS AND DICTIONARIES WERE OUR GOOGLE. CURSIVE HANDWRITING WAS A CLASS ALL IT’S OWN, AND EVERYTHING WE TURNED IN HAD TO BE WRITTEN IN CURSIVE. IN OTHER WORDS, WE HAVE NO SYMPATHY FOR YOU BECAUSE YOU THINK THAT THREE PARAGRAPHS, IS TOO MUCH WORK.  AND IF YOU HAVE PLANS PAST 8TH GRADE, (AND YOU BETTER) YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE MUCH HIGHER EXPECTATIONS ON YOU THAN MIDDLE SCHOOL. RESEARCH PAPERS (500 WORDS MINIMUM) IN THREE DIFFERENT CLASSES, DUE ALL ON THE SAME DAY.  WHEN YOU DO THAT, HOLLA AT ME.  UNTIL THEN, DO YOUR WORK. AND THAT’S JUST HIGH SCHOOL.  I’M NOT EVEN GOING TO GO INTO POST-SECONDARY EXPECTATIONS.

2. Come near our desks, and fart or consistently fart in class and laugh.

Why?

WELP. HOW CAN I SAY THIS…

NOBODY WANTS TO SMELL THE INSIDE OF YOUR ASSES, CHILDREN. AND NOBODY REALLY THINKS IT’S FUNNY. THAT LAUGHTER? DEFENSE MECHANISM. IT KEEPS YOUR CLASSMATES AND PEERS FROM STRAIGHT CUSSING YOU OUT.  SERIOUSLY THOUGH. MUCH LIKE #4, IT TAKES AWAY FROM INSTRUCTION TIME. IT IS ALSO MAD DISRESPECTFUL. I MEAN, I GET IT. WE ALL FART. IT IS A DIGESTIVE FUNCTION OF BIOTIC ORGANISMS. BUT DAMN. MOST OF YOU KNOW WHEN YOU’VE GOTTA CUT LOOSE. MOST OF YOU HAVE TIME, BEFORE YOU CUT LOOSE TO EXCUSE YOURSELVES FROM THE ROOM. NOW, IF YOU ASK AND ARE DENIED, HEY. AT LEAST YOU TRIED. BUT DAWG. TO EAT HOT CHEETOS FOR BREAKFAST AND THEN MAKE ALL THE REST OF US SUFFER, AND MISS THE LESSON? DOWNRIGHT RUDE. AND DRINK MORE WATER. EAT A VEGETABLE OR TWO FOR GOODNESS SAKE.

and,

  1. Lie. About who started what, who said what to whom, which pet ate your homework (the teddy bear, right? Because you don’t have any pets! Doing your work and someone stealing it, or the all time worst: “You didn’t give me one.” As if, we’re going to punish you by not giving you the assignment that was given to every other student in class, just to be able to give you the zero the next day.

Why?

WHEN YOU LIE, YOU BREAK TRUST WITH YOUR COMMUNITY, PERIOD. TRUST IS ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT ASPECTS OF ANY RELATIONSHIP, WHETHER IT’S FRIENDLY, ROMANTIC, FAMILIAL, AND/OR STUDENT-TEACHER. YOU TRUST YOUR TEACHERS TO TEACH YOU. YOU TRUST YOUR TEACHERS TO KNOW MORE THAN YOU. YOU TRUST YOUR TEACHERS TO HELP YOU UNDERSTAND. YOU TRUST THAT YOUR TEACHERS WILL NOT HARM YOU OR PUT YOU IN HARM’S WAY. YOU TRUST, THAT YOUR TEACHERS WILL PROTECT YOU.  YOUR TEACHERS TRUST THAT YOU WILL BE READY TO LEARN. THAT YOU WILL PUT FORTH THE EFFORT TO MOVE ALONG TO THE NEXT LEVEL OF THINGS, WHATEVER THAT LEVEL IS FOR YOU. WE TRUST THAT YOU’RE GOING TO RESPECT YOURSELVES AND OTHERS. WE TRUST THAT YOU WON’T STEAL FROM US. BUT WHEN YOU LIE? WE LOSE THE CAPACITY TO TRUST YOU FOR ANYTHING. REMEMBER THE STORY OF THE LITTLE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF? WHEN YOU LIE TO YOUR TEACHERS, YOU BECOME THAT LITTLE BOY, AND WE EVENTUALLY, WILL TUNE OUT YOUR WOLF CRIES BECAUSE YOU’VE COMPROMISED YOUR VOICE. SQUARELY LYING PUTS YOU IN DANGER.

 

That’s my rant. Thanks for reading.

If you are or know middle schoolers, or teachers, please share this.  If you have more things to add, please, add them to the comments section! I’d love to show my students that I’m not alone here.

BLOGGING STUDENTS: Leave a comment on this blog, for credit.

 

 

Every Child Is A Classroom (draft)

It is a challenge of will and discipline to write, daily.  To not know what to write about.

To work, without reward.  Maybe, a grade.

And what if you don’t like writing?  What if, writing is not easy for you?

If, numbers make more sense than words. Or, perhaps, photographs are the first language.

If, handles, crossovers, buckets or dunks are the parts of speech I understand.

But they don’t have a class that measures intelligence based in creativity.

 

It’s not fair.  The teachers like things like this.  This is what they do.  They don’t care about what we do.

They don’t even ask.

 

Me?  I don’t wanna write.  I’m better at saying what I have to say.  I know people–

especially the teachers–

think I’m dumb because I don’t want to write.

They think that I can’t write

just because I don’t.  I hate that.

At the same time though, I love it.

 

I love to see the looks on their faces when I share what I do.

It’s always a surprise to them and I always wonder

what you expected.  Like, why is it a surprise that I have good thoughts?

I’m used to it, and I know exactly how to deal with them so I don’t get pissed.

I piss them off. They talk to me like I’m a child,

so I act like one.  My grandmother always says, you get what you expect. and

I always expect to enjoy my day, giving people what they expect.

I especially like to throw their assumptions in their faces–

Lady, I said I didn’t LIKE to write. I didn’t say I couldn’t write. That’s on you.

CRACKED

This is how I leave most o the faces I interact with.  Cracked, as in onomatopoeia.

They’re supposed to be teachers, and the only thing I learn, is that the older you get, the more you lie.

 

What I mean is hypocrite.

What I mean is do what I say, not what I do

What I mean is, I can’t call him dumb, but you can treat me like I’m dumb.

 

What I mean is the way you roll your eyes when I walk in the room.

What I mean is I see you. What I mean is I know you

talk about me. What I mean is, I don’t like to write.

What I mean is what’s right for you isn’t right for me.

What I mean is, I’m not you.  What I mean is arrogant–

What makes you think I want to be anything like you or what you think I should be?

What I mean is who do you think you are–

Do you know what I mean?

I can’t write it, because it’s not school appropriate.

So I’m dumbed if I do, dumbed if I don’t.

You want me to want to write what you want me to write.

Write it yourself.

You want me to make you feel better about yourself, while you make me feel guilty for breathing.

You want me to do your work for you, right?

I can’t.

I can not be the pillow of your good night’s sleep.

I am not your comfort.

I am not your story.