P.O.T.U.S.

Greg, hallway neighbor and teacher extraordinaire, is running the senate in his social studies classroom. I can't remember how I got the gig, but somehow I'm the president, which means I sign or veto all bills that pass through the committees. While this means that I get to talk over important issues with kids who ask me about my politics, it also, and more importantly, means that I am the most popular teacher on the team. In order to make his lesson authentic, G points out that sometimes politics is about who you know as much as what you believe -- maybe more. So, gifts of artwork, poetry, and candy always mark the start of the game. My favorite part, though, is the major ass-kissing in the hallway: "You look very nice today, President D. How are you?" Shit like that.

When it comes to talking agenda, some of them struggle to get to the heart of the issues:

Student: "Ms. D. How do you feel about saving the environment?"
Me: "I feel great! Let's save it!"
Student: "I knew it! You'll sign my bill right?"

Then there are those who know the right approach:

Student: "Ms. D. If you could change one thing in our country, what would it be?"

I never know where to start. And then I never know where to end.

So far, I've vetoed only two bills. One wanted to lower the working age and the other the voting age. The second was a harder decision for me, but sometimes I'm just curious to hear their reactions when I slash their bills. "Wah? Why? I'm in your Prime Time!" I love the power.

Each year I do this, a couple of pretty serious bills come my way. Abortion. Gay marriage. Immigration. At those moments, I realize this is NOT a game, and that G is the best teacher those kids will ever have. Then, all brown-nosing aside, I'm just damn grateful to be part of this process.