I'm going to go out on a limb, here, and say that it's very likely that you have heard/seen/read something about the upcoming presidential election with the last nine and a half seconds. Election coverage is inescapable.
Nonstop media attention has got to be a tiring feature of the job of running for president, and fourth graders know that the challenges don't end there. Towards the end of the year, my friend asked her students what they thought were the hardest parts about being a presidential candidate.
"You have so much paperwork."
"You need to know exactly what people want."
It's true--those voters can be hard to read sometimes. If only Obama and Romney could just write some "circle yes or no" notes directly to the American public, we could save a lot of time and effort on all these fancy polls.
Nonstop media attention has got to be a tiring feature of the job of running for president, and fourth graders know that the challenges don't end there. Towards the end of the year, my friend asked her students what they thought were the hardest parts about being a presidential candidate.
"You have so much paperwork."
"You need to know exactly what people want."
It's true--those voters can be hard to read sometimes. If only Obama and Romney could just write some "circle yes or no" notes directly to the American public, we could save a lot of time and effort on all these fancy polls.
"You can be very mean to the other presidential candidates."
Well, yes. It must not be easy to come up with those attack ads. If the super PACs start losing steam, though, I would refer the candidates to any nearby third grader. The strategy there, though, would probably revolve around talking about the other candidate's momma, but might ultimately prove effective.
Another tough aspect of running for president:
"You have to know a speech or something by the next day."
"You need to stand in front of crowds."
"You need to stand in front of crowds."
Those crowds can be huge, I'm sure, and the speeches full of facts and figures and tough words. Yikes! One of my students, though, has come up with the perfect way to gracefully extract yourself from a "Forgot my line!" or "Ack! An audience!" situation. When it all gets to be too much, just freeze on stage, look at the audience, say, "I'm sorry. I just can't do this." Then simply walk off stage. That's all there is to it, fellas.
"You have to make sure you have enough money."
Ain't that the truth! If the fundraisers just aren't cutting it, or your capital gains dry up, try
selling off the contents of your lunch bag! There's surely an eight-year-old who will be more than willing to part with his money. Or just create a fad product that everyone's dying to have and set up an auction between recess and math.
And finally, when the results are in on November 6th, the fourth graders know that that's when the real tough part comes.
"When you don’t get picked or when you’re waiting to hear who will win."
Ain't that the truth! If the fundraisers just aren't cutting it, or your capital gains dry up, try
selling off the contents of your lunch bag! There's surely an eight-year-old who will be more than willing to part with his money. Or just create a fad product that everyone's dying to have and set up an auction between recess and math.
And finally, when the results are in on November 6th, the fourth graders know that that's when the real tough part comes.
"When you don’t get picked or when you’re waiting to hear who will win."
"It’s hard not to cry after losing if you lose."
Don't worry, though, Mitt and Barack. Losing the race doesn't mean you're a loser! It just means you're the second favorite, which is a legitimate honor, actually. And I would know, being Alonzo's second favorite teacher and all.
Should you need a bit of eye-drying, though, I have found that jokes work well for relieving Unfathomable Despair.
And once you've gotten over not being president, you might consider the position of inspector general. The position probably requires much less fundraising and way smaller crowds, but you'd still get to be at least one kid's hero.
Don't worry, though, Mitt and Barack. Losing the race doesn't mean you're a loser! It just means you're the second favorite, which is a legitimate honor, actually. And I would know, being Alonzo's second favorite teacher and all.
Should you need a bit of eye-drying, though, I have found that jokes work well for relieving Unfathomable Despair.
And once you've gotten over not being president, you might consider the position of inspector general. The position probably requires much less fundraising and way smaller crowds, but you'd still get to be at least one kid's hero.
2 comments:
Post a Comment