I hung up the phone, after talking to yet another young teacher who received a layoff notice. I had to tell her I can't make the District make better decisions. Turning to my desk, needing to staple her paperwork together, I reached for the stapler that I brought back from San Antonio after Daddy died.
It was his stapler. He touched it with his own hands.
I broke down, clutching it to my chest for comfort.
It's just a stapler, but I needed my Daddy so much.
There are 70 bright, young, talented teachers out there needing their Daddies now, too.