stamps have gone up 14 pence
cannibal eats man's face
man throws his own intestines at police
body parts mailed to government
Women kills and eats 3 week old son
our butterfly population is still declining
This was the outfit I wore to school today. I spent forever doing my hair, made an effort to actually wear makeup, wore jewelry, the whole nine yards, which I seriously never do. I wanted to get away from the normal t-shirt and jeans I usually wear so that I could take cute pictures with the Seniors on their way out of high school for the last time.
If you’ll notice, the front of the skirt is more than halfway down my thigh and I even had shorts on underneath. There’s no way anyone was seeing anything under this skirt.
At my school we have a “knee length” rule for all bottoms. I got through periods 1 through 4 with not even a comment from a teacher or administrator. All I got was compliments from many students, which made me feel awesome about myself.
In lunch, I go to the vending machine to get water. The second I turn around, there’s the Principal right in my face. “Hi there, your skirt is very pretty, but it’s way too short.”
“Well Mr.Crouch, I am pretty tall, and—“
“But that’s not what matters. I’m saying that if the sheer fabric wasn’t there, the part underneath wouldn’t be legal. So you’ve got two options, you can either go to ISS, or change into something appropriate. What do you want to do?”
“Um, well I think I might have something. I’ll change.”
“Okay, and come right back and show me what you’ve changed into.”
I knew I didn’t have anything to change into, because I’d worn this skirt before with no trouble.
I went back to my table to finish my lunch, and shortly after he approached me again.
“I thought you were going to go change?”
“I will, I just wanted to finish my lunch first.”
“Alright. And when you change, go show the front office to see if they approve.”
Now we’re standing at the door waiting to be released from lunch. Bear in mind, this will be 3 times he’s approached me in maybe a 10 minute time span.
“Are you going to change?”
“Yes, I just want to let my 5th period teacher know where I am.”
“What’s your first name again?”
“And who’s your next teacher?”
“Well I’ll let Mrs. Solburg know you’re going to be a few minutes late to class, alright?”
So I went to class and let Mrs. Solburg know Mr. Crouch would be coming by soon because of my skirt and that I had no intentions of changing.
He walks in the classroom through the back entrance and says, apparently before scanning the room to see if I’m even in there, “Emily is going to be a few minutes late because she’s changing clothes. Oh, is she in here?”
“Make sure you change.”
He left, and I told my teacher that I didn’t have anything to change into. We looked in her closet and couldn’t find anything that normal people would wear that was both appropriate and matched what I was wearing. I told her to not worry about it, that I’d have my mom sign me out to go home.
When I hung up with my mom, here comes Mr. Crouch again. Mrs. Solburg tells him that I am signing out because I couldn’t find anything to change into.
“Oh, well she told me she had something to change into.”
“Mr. Crouch, I said that I might.”
“No, you said you had something.”
And he walked out.
Let’s count the things that were more wrong than my skirt, shall we?
1. Him approaching me twice while I was trying to eat in our already short lunch time
2. Him interrupting my theatre class twice just to tell me to change
3. The fact he said my skirt wouldn’t be “legal” without the sheer fabric, and also, why would I wear the skirt without the outer fabric?! It’s the whole skirt!
4. My friend Melissa had been trying to schedule a meeting with him since 2nd period to start up a donation drive for the suffering families in Oklahoma, and he was too busy following me around to help her
5. So many Seniors were dressed way more inappropriately than me with tank tops and booty shorts
6. I would have had to miss the Senior Walk even if I didn’t go home because I’d have been in ISS, so I didn’t get to say bye to all of my senior friends
7. I had to disrupt my mom at work to sign me out
8. I had to miss my last two classes when I had already been absent the previous day and needed to make up work
9. He singled me out to the extreme, embarrassed me, and made me cry in front of my class
10. My friend David wore shorts with a 5 inch inseam a few weeks ago and wasn’t even approached by an administrator. It was just shrugged off as him being a “silly boy”
11. He didn’t even want to hear what I had to say about being tall (proportions, man. Put my skirt on any short girl and it would be fine. They don’t make cute skirts that are knee length on a 5’11” girl. It just doesn’t happen.), and he completely dismissed me when I said that I told him I *might* have a change of clothes, even though it was the truth
If he put just half as much effort as he did checking up on me every 5 minutes into, maybe, /running a school/, then everyone probably wouldn’t hate it so much.
Male Teachers are not even suppose to say anything to you about dress code because that insinuates that he was checking you out which counts as a sexual thing. My mother Explained this to me. He wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t actually LOOKING looking.
We’re strong, simple people. We enjoy the simple pleasures: Flannel, dirty gloves, throwing lumber onto truckbeds in slow-mo, leaning on fences, you name it. MAN do we love leaning on fences. Wood fences, wire fences — you give us a fence, we’ll lean the fuck on it.
Out here, it’s always sunrise or sunset. Are there other times in the day? We don’t know. And frankly, we don’t want to know. We’re simple like that. All we know is that this lumber has to go from here to somewhere else, and it’s up to us to move it. Also there’s horses out here so shut those greasy gates and let’s peel out into the mud.
Us? We’re all about family. When we’re not about lumber. Which is often. But we’ll swing by the son’s Little League game and rub his head when his team loses, then swing by the gal’s Little League game and rub her head when her team loses. Just let em know that it’s all gonna be ok because we love them, and we’ll get that lumber where it needs to go.
But we’re not afraid to let loose every now and then! Sometimes we go to the diner where the way-too-attractive waitress pours us coffee and gives us broad smiles. She may look like a model but she’s got flannel on and never isn’t turning around with a coffee pot so she’s one of us.
We live on a porch. Quiet. Homely. Not much call for buildings in our town — we’re not really into ‘frills’ — just give us a porch and some iced tea pitchers with the sun shining through them and we’re as happy as a pig in gloves leaning on a fence.
At night, we just admire the stars. LOVE those stars. Who needs a television when you got stars? Not us, that’s who.
My son points up at the stars as if to say “wow!” I smile. I am glad my son enjoys the stars. At least one kid gets that you don’t need ‘video games’ when you have stars. They’re like our own little tiny, glowing fences in the sky for our eyes to lean on. Truly magical.
In conclusion, I love this country.
My wife is a truck made of fences.
Frozen in the hood
how is this the hood. that is clearly a suburbian neighborhood. likeeeeeee can we stop with the casual racism?
For real damn smh
She’s probably studied dance for years and is enjoying the snow, but since she’s black…. yah know she MUST be hood.
God Forbid her name be Rasheeda Jackson. SMH they’ll be making fun all day.
this is how we know “ghetto” and “hood” are synonymous with blackness for white people, no matter what economic class we’re actually in; you will look at us the same way no matter what, so fuck respectability politics and trying to “polite” our way into civil rights
for the fucking comments
By the way, this “ghetto” girl has a name; it’s Allie. She has a vine account.
like jfc that is clearly an upper middle class suburb