I’ve attended my town’s public school all my life so its recent hilariously bad and nationally publicized failure didn’t entirely shock me.
I’ve often wondered what it would be like to be home schooled. I know a couple home schooled kids from my city, and they seem fairly educated but at the same time they seem a little bit different socially. Personally, my own kids won’t be home schooled. First off, I’m far too lazy and will be much too busy drinking margaritas and driving around in my Corvette. Second, school provides kids with certain life lessons that they need to learn. Earlier this year, my school taught me and everyone else a valuable lesson in health and safety.
Yes, This story involves a bat.
Before I start, you should know I live in Montana. Yes, that state. And no, not the one with potatoes, you’re thinking of Idaho. And yes, we still ride horses to school. ANYWAYS, near the end of a regular school day I learned the news that a parent had brought a dead bat to the elementary. Yes, a dead bat. To a building filled with children. She then proceeded to go around to different fourth and fifth grade classes encouraging kids to handle the flying vermin.
I know what you’re wondering: why would a school allow a dead bat to be brought in and passed around? Granted, it may not have been the best decision for the faculty to OK it, but you need to understand that teachers here are most likely NOT like teachers where you live. In order to get certified to teach in Montana, applicants just have to be able to barrel race horses and skin a deer. No fancy city folk background checks and college education required. So now you understand why this kind of situation could arise.
Alas, the story does not end here. A school nurse at my school heard about the great science show and tell at the elementary and told the parent who brought the bat that she needed to send it in to get tested for rabies. I think you can guess what results the school got back. In all, 90 students were exposed to the friendly little critter, and each rabies shot cost around $200. Luckily, my school had Retarded Blunder Insurance and its liability paid for all the shots to be overnight shipped to here. Apparently this kind of thing doesn’t happen very often, and rabies shots aren’t manufactured in that large of quantity. My school’s hands-on bat lollapalooza ended up causing a nation-wide shortage of the vaccine, and was featured on national news, including CNN.
As it turns out, the parent who brought the bat it was a certified nurse. If the next time you’re watching TV and you hear about a small school who brought in a live alligator for students to wrestle, check back here my most recent blog. At least now I know not to infect small children with a potentially life threatening disease. And the kids that had to get rabies shots now know not to trust anyone. Ever.
The lessons we learn at school: priceless.