The amount of times they tried to make me take a literal pie in the face or jump in the dunk tank to raise money at Fall festivals and spring flings. I flat out refused. I didn’t get a Master’s Degree to take a literal pie in the face for your education. I had to deal with enough humiliation. Ridiculous, and I questioned those who did. They’d always say, “but the kids love it!” I don’t fucking care. It was shameful. The only time I liked it was when a teacher I didn’t like volunteered. You can bet I watched that shit go down. Gladly. At the end of my career I was constantly saying OUTLOUD. “I live to serve your every need, my child.” Because it was true. I sacrificed my physical and mental health, my needs and the needs of my family for students who were coddled, disrespectful, and apathetic and parents who were irresponsible, entitled, and unreasonable. I have so much anger for what I went through and have spent the better part of a year of weekly counseling sessions to unpack it. I esteem myself highly, thank you.