Last week, when my partner and I were vacationing in Sydney, I dreamed of Senator Barack Obama. I think my dream was prompted by all those articles I read about that website where you can recount your dreams of Obama or Clinton.

Now although I support Obama for president, I’m not some crazy fanatic who thinks about him daily, dreams about him nightly and fantasizes about him when I’m with my partner. No, I blame my dream on a week of restless nights spent in our friends’ guest bedroom. The temperature was either too warm or too cold, the blankets not thick enough or not at all necessary. And you know when someone offers to turn the air conditioner on for you when they don’t have it on already, it’s just to be nice. If you say, “Yes, please do,” you’re a shitty guest. If you say, “No, the bedroom is perfect!” you can leave crumbs all over the kitchen.

In my dream, I was back in the U.S. teaching at some public high school or middle school, I don’t remember which, but I do remember it had that ugly public school built in early 1970s feel to it with the graying eggshell walls and faded light blue stripes that were some asshole’s idea of mental stimulation. Over the in-school public address system, I heard Obama addressing the school over an incident regarding graffiti in the boys room. Apparently, someone had scrawled the names of several female teachers on the wall and had referred to them as “senseless bitches.”

As a teacher, school counselor or principal, when a student says a bad word, you can do one of two things. You can either refer to the word as “that word” or you can quote it when lecturing the students on why that word has no place in school.

“Tamika, when you say the word ‘fuck’ out loud in class, you might think you’re looking tough in front of your classmates but I can assure you that the focus is on me to see what I’m going to say as a result of you having said fuck. Let me tell you guys that I do occasionally use this word outside of class. I’m human. I curse. I accidentally break things and loose my temper and use that word but I would never use that word in class because I respect you guys too much. Tamika, that kind of talk is for out there in the city and even then we all know that it sounds bad and makes the person look dumb.”

By this time, fucking Tamika is wishing she had never said fuck in my classroom. Bitch. What I really wanted to do was grab her by those ugly ears of hers and throw her out my goddamn window onto the street below. But in the Bronx you never let the students get the best of you. You just go up to the roof at lunchtime for a smoke.

Obama, in my dream, decided to use the phrase that was scrawled on the wall over the PA system. In fact, he said “senseless bitches” repeatedly. He explained to the children why that phrase was hurtful and wrong and how it reflected badly on everyone in our learning environment–teacher speak for “you should be ashamed of yourselves whoever you are that did this.”

Now I long for the day when I hear Obama say “senseless bitches” in real life. True, he probably never will but boy o boy to hear him say those words in that orator’s voice of his would be priceless. I’d laugh my ass off.

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