We Fixed Our School’s Teacher Shortage

Dear Parents and Guardians,

I’m sure you all have heard about this little “teacher shortage” plaguing the country. As the school principal, I promise that you have nothing to worry about. Though many members of our staff have left citing burnout, the state has relaxed certification requirements for teaching, and that means we have several exciting replacements to announce—a few of whom might be even better than some crusty, old licensed educator with a vested interest in the success of your children.

We are committed to maintaining our strong mathematics and science departments. Chemistry will now be an applied class on skin-care regimens taught through a student-led series of trial and error. (If you have any leftover or sample products, please contact me about donating them.) Geometry will be taught by Jeremy, a Trader Joe’s employee who bags groceries like it’s a game of Tetris. He also will be co-heading our physics department, alongside the concept of gravity, making us the first school in U.S. history with theory-inclusive staffing.

Owing to Ms. Mark’s departure, the philosophy department will be dissolved entirely. We searched far and wide (Craigslist) for candidates, but unfortunately the interview process revealed that all applicants were dorm-room atheists disguised as Twitter bots. Plus, recent studies have demonstrated that test scores have no correlation with how well a person can win an argument online.

Home economics will be converted into a weeklong trip into the woods, where students must learn how to cook, clean, and appease bears. Students will be allowed to return to school once they’ve created an economy that can compete with China’s or a government that can hopefully replace ours.

Ms. Gleason, the photography teacher, is picking up extra shifts at Target, so her class will be taught by Melanie, the hottest girl in school (students’ words, not ours). She is good at selfies.

Our Spanish teacher quit to pursue a summer fling in Barcelona (¡felicidades, Señora O’Lynch!), but we are working as hard as we can to find another white lady who really wants to roll her “R”s.

I will personally be supervising gym class. Students who choose to walk the mile will be forced to chat with me about why one of my parents is a famous actor and the other is a school administrator, yet this is the path they steered me down just because of what one casting director said.

Sex ed, previously taught by the unholy union of the school nurse and the gym teacher, will now be taught by a Cosmopolitan columnist who’s best known for a viral essay titled “I Plugged Every Hole with Butt Plugs—Here’s What Happened.” We’re paying her the nurse and gym teacher’s combined salaries.

The school newspaper was previously overseen by Mr. Scott, who recently tumbled down Mt. Everest. He’s alive, but it gave him a lot of perspective. The paper will enter the modern media landscape by no longer having a supervisor, office, or e-mail address. Instead, students are encouraged to just text each other gossip or start pseudonymous Instagram accounts.

Speech and debate will be held at the public park, next to the nearest, loudest man with a megaphone.

The music program will now be headed up by Mrs. Paltz, our town’s meanest but most in-demand piano teacher. She may be a hundred and two years old, but the woman has an hourly rate, thank God. Since we can afford only one music teacher, all non-piano and non-keytar instruments will be sold for parts.

This group of recruits may seem “ragtag” or “straight-up bad,” but we thoroughly screened each person and abstract concept to the best of our ability given time constraints and who I happen to know. As my dad always said in tough times like these, “I’m the school principal, goddammit.” Any parents or guardians who have concerns are welcome to come to my office with an up-to-date résumé.

Sincerely,

Your Principal

P.S. This is my last year. ♦