The Death of Cool

I hate to admit it, but I have some hipster tendencies. I don't have a mustache, own any vinyls or roll my own cigarettes, but I do have a pair of jorts and a decent collection of ironic t-shirts. That said, there's little room for a detached sense of coolness in an elementary classroom.

I got a reminder of this when I asked my girls and boys to come up with team names for their lines. I award stars to the boys and girls lines based on how they walk quietly to and from lunch and preps. I don't know what I expected their ideas to be like, but the choices they settled on could only come from a group of eight-year-olds. The team names? Sparkle Stars and Fire Breathers.

In some ways, these team names are awesome, even if you aren't eight years old. But then, you have to say these team names out loud in a context like, "Come on Sparkle Stars, let me see your team work," and it's pretty hard not to feel utterly ridiculous. Hearing the words come out of my mouth is one of those, "How did I get here?" moments. No, there's no room for "cool" in a 3rd grade classroom, but I think that's probably a good thing.


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