when I was a substitute teacher for his class last month.

My agency suspended me and I was investigated for "misconduct", until yesterday when I was interviewed.

On the day of my assignment, I was told before the class came in that there two boys were "problems" (by the principal, by the "money teacher", and by the nurse). And I vowed to stay on the other side of the room all day in that case. And I did.

They were disruptive, destructive, insolent, and more. All I could do was manage the rest of the class.

More problems: the class went to recess before lunch and these boys refused to climb off the jungle gym and come in. I had to send security out to get them into the building. At dismissal, they "locked" themselves into the coat closet in the back. I got the door opened 2 inches and they slammed the door shut on my hand, crushing my fingers.

So long story short, I was assaulted and I was the one accused of "misconduct".

The investigation found not one student to corroborate the accusation; the principal and teachers gave me stellar reports, and . . . . I had the prescience to leave behind a detailed report that specifically documented all the problems these boys caused that day.

Apparently the boy told his mother who reported the allegation to the principal who had no choice but to report this to the state.

While I have been exonerated, I faced losing more than a few more years of substitute teaching. I risked losing my teaching license and possible criminal prosecution/conviction. The charges could have included attempted murder.

I can't get over a six year old (and if not him, then his mother) could make such an accusation.

In any case, I don't have the stomach to return to teaching if I'm going to wonder which kid is going to report abuse when I was merely doing my job.

You know, it's been bad enough to heal myself from the malignant narcissism regularly doled out by my father. Not to mention his explosive hysterical temper. I literally wake up each morning and remind myself that he's not alive and I'm safe.

I'm also processing how he terrified my brother and my sister. My sister was so scared of our father, that she was a positive Quisling against me at any opportunity. I suppose it was to distract and redirect our father's ire away from her. Talk about sleeping with the enemy. I never laid a hand on her, not even in reflex. Not to mention that she'd run to our father and I wasn't looking for more trouble. To make things more strange, my sister had a pathological need for our father to love her; but he was incapable of loving anyone. She was mad/depressed that she wasn't getting her pay-off.

After our father passed, my sister seemed to wake up and started to understand our trauma.

I am the daughter of Jewish parents who were children of Jewish parents who were children of Jewish parents. I went to Sunday School, flirted with a Bas Mitzvah but didn't get one. I toured Germany and Austria, visiting a vandalized synagogue in Augsburg and Dachau. And I "lost God". I literally left the religion during the Yom Kippur service in 1984. And now I am an atheist. But I'm still Jewish.

Compare my situation to that of a dear childhood friend.

He discovered after his parents' deaths that he was adopted. His (adoptive) parents raised him as a Conservative Jew. As an adult, he took the Ancestry DNA test and not one drop of Jewish blood. That raised flags. He found his biological parents, both non-Jews. My friend is modern Orthodox. He immigrated to Israel and lives in a West Bank settlement. He went to the Israeli rabbis to see if he still qualified as a "Jew" notwithstanding the bris and the bar mitzvah, Jewish wedding, raising a Jewish family. They deemed he was Jewish according to Israeli law (and Jewish law).

So here we both are: I'm born Jewish and have no faith and my friend was born non-Jewish and more Jewish in his life than I could ever expect to be. His faith is sincere and unfaltering.

We're both Jewish.

My father was a malignant narcissist and an authoritarian.

His rages were epic.

I was a regular target as I stood up to him even when I knew it was a futile effort. I wouldn't agree with him when he was wrong, and unfortunately, he often was as well as having poor judgment. And as a result, I was branded as a "trouble-maker" in our family.

Our mother also argued, but sporadically as she too knew it was a futile effort.

My sister became an enabler of our father and began to harass me, partly to protect herself and not as much, to protect me.

My brother just kept out of the way.

Our family was classically dysfunctional.

I can see how the Republican Party has become afraid of making Trump "mad".

I respect her intelligence and problem-solving skills.

But she refuses to get vaccinated, period. One of her reasons is that she also doesn't get a yearly flu shot.

She claims that she doesn't know what's in the vaccine, whether it works, whether it will trigger her asthma, etc. (And inexplicably, she watches Fox "News" and finds it credible. She believes it gives her information/facts that MM refuses to share.) Yeah, she wears a mask and believes that's all she needs for protection. She's even defending in court individuals who face getting fired because they also refuse to be vaccinated but they care for vulnerable individuals (e.g., caregivers in a convent). And she loathes Anthony Fauci, and thinks he's a charlatan who has/had financial interests in the lab in Wuhan, China.

Her teenage niece has been just the opposite regarding Covid. She refused to go to a classroom until she could get vaccinated. Took 2-3 showers a day in an effort to convince herself that she was "healthy".

With the new variant that is supposed to be highly more contagious than the original and Delta variants, my friend is still ready to accept the risk of infection. I know on some level she understands that once she contracts Covid, she has to finish the journey so to speak.

Nine students (half my class) were mysteriously told to pack up to go home at 10:30, 2-1/2 hours after school began. Two more were taken away after Lunch. And almost every 10 minutes, the Office PA requested individual students to pack up and report to the Nurse.

I don't believe I'm extrapolating incorrectly. That many kids in such a short period of time spells COVID.

I'm not worried as I got my booster shot four days ago and all of us were wearing masks.

I'm just concerned about that many kids had to leave school for public health reasons.

The pediatric vaccine for Covid can't come soon enough for me.

27 years old, a single mother of a 5 year old.

She struggled for many years with pain and self-medicated. She tried therapy. She tried Jesus. She tried finding a man who would take care of her. But dammit, she tried!

My BFF is her grandfather. He adopted her before she was born b/c his son and girlfriend were planning on abortion. And my friend and his wife (not the grandmother) raised her. Made me part of their family.

She made me smile in many ways. They lived in Lynchburg , VA. She was in HS when the school PA announced that Jerry Falwell died in May of 2007. She jumped up and yelled "Yaaaaaaay!" That was effin' brave considering that Falwell was the de facto King of Lynchburg.

She asked me for advice from time to time. I supported her all the way all the time.

My BFF is going to raise her daughter, his great granddaughter.

Background: I'm a cashier at a food emporium which also has a general liquor section.

Three minutes before the end of my shift, here he comes. A cart just loaded (literally) with boxes and bottles. All liquor. Never have seen anything like it before. I gird my loins and start processing the order on the belt.

Customer is a guy, 40-something, with an authoritarian streak. I'm older than he is and a woman. (This isn't going to end well, thought I.)

First he wants to tell me how many boxes and how many bottles. I can't do that. If there were 10 or less, I could scan and verify the numbers. There had to be 30-35 pieces of liquor to process. And not organized; they're all spread out. So he's mad at me at 0:45. He's trying to get me to skip steps by telling me that he comes to the store every week, implying I was about to lose a loyal customer. I hope my supervisor doesn't notice and I'll be under scrutiny.

I have to attach "PAID" stickers to each piece. That slows down the process and Customer gets more angry. Pressure cooker mad. I'm just glad to be able to concentrate, not missing a single item, not dropping any glass, etc. He's talking AT me and I keep a neutral demeanor, you know, professional.

He's insulting me in front of me to customers waiting for their turn. I give him great service notwithstanding.

Finally, time for payment. The tab is $ 1,229. Not kidding. This is the biggest tab I've ever done. I was expecting a credit card. But he whips out a roll of $ 20's. That's right. And he's counting them and practically throws them at me. Of course, I now have to count the bills -- 62 of them. And he's talking at me again, trying to distract me while I'm trying to account for the money.

I counted 62, but thought maybe this is a good time to Cover My Ass and called over a supervisor. While I didn't mention the difficulty of the past 15+ minutes, I did ask for her to confirm the wad of bills before I put the sale through. She had to take it to the Money Room for counting. And this guy is almost screaming. I asked my supervisor if she could finish the sale and she looked at me with understanding and told me I could leave.

I returned about 10 minutes later and my supervisor told me that when he tried to complain about me, she told him that she had been watching the entire transaction and he had been abusing me.

I love it when management has your back.

Nothing but Humanities.

Art History, Music History, Theater History, European Civilization (2 semesters), German, Spanish, Italian, Chemistry, Modern Dance, Logic, and that's not counting my courses for my major in Music (Rudiments, Advanced Harmony, Composition, History during the Romantic Era, Baroque History, Modern History, Counterpoint, and more). Plus I researched, wrote, and defended a 90+ page thesis and performed a solo recital.

When I entered college on Day One, I had no idea whatsoever what I was going to do after graduation. None. So I simply enrolled in classes that seemed interesting.

Was I prepared to enter the work force after graduation? Not really. I opted for a backpack trip through the U.K. and Europe the summer following graduation, and saw sights that mirrored my courses.

What did I get out of this educational experience? More knowledge about western civilization than most college graduates. The apparently rarified skill of critical thinking. Three foreign languages. The ability to teach myself in the future.

That is what's lost with the disinterest in the Humanities.

He looked good "on paper." Respected physician in the community. Dressed in Brooks Brothers suits. Member of the exclusive Tuxedo Club. Read Wodehouse, Amis, and other 20th century British authors. Intellectual. Played golf and court tennis. Drove a Jaguar.

But totally out of touch with everyone including our family. You might say he grew too big for his britches.

I could discern there was something "wrong" before I was 10. Disturbingly wrong. It was more than he was republican and loved Nixon. I listened carefully to what he said, what he didn't say. And I felt a combination of unease and apprehension/fear.

To my dismay, I seemed to be the only one who could see beneath the veneer. Maybe my mother to a lesser extent.

I hope Ohio has enough political will to deny Vance a slot during the primary next year.