In education news this week, aliens from the planet Xalminator landed in Westlake, Indiana, at the forty-yard-line on the fighting Wolves’ football field. On their tour, the aliens remarked on the school’s foreign design and inhabitants.
“This startling system of bells ringing at 50-minute intervals, followed by another ring 5 minutes after each 50-minute bell appears to randomly move the students through a series of rooms, hallways, and doorways at an alarming rate,” Citizen Xorotec noted. “I see no intellectual logic for such behavior, since this is a school of learning, and learning cannot be reasonably segmented in such an arbitrary way.”
Other citizens, as they called themselves, remarked on the unhealthy mold formations growing on the ceilings and in corners of many areas of the school, including the cafeteria, where one citizen opened the lid on a pot of turkey tetrazzini and fainted.
A group of eight Xalminatorians banded together to brave the nether regions of the computer lab rooms, where they giggled over the antiquated technology.
“My great-granny once talked about how her people discovered similar such apparatuses in the failed project corner of the children’s workshop building,” said Citizen Xantiatica.
Another set of the aliens was intrigued by the glassed-in area near the front doors, which contained two women dressed better than the teachers in the building, an overweight man in polyester slacks whose cologne was penetrating the glass walls, another overweight man in a white polo shirt with a grease stain, and two people of undetermined sex partitioned off in their own area away from all other signs of life.
Citizen Xorotec pondered, “I suppose it could be the entertainment area, like in what humanoids call a zoo. The rest of the inhabitants of the building can perhaps observe the activity inside this sound and smell-proof glass cell.” The cologne-drenched overweight man leaned against a counter, talking nonstop to one of the women whose eyes were glazed over like a Dunkin donut. “It does not, however, appear that interesting to me.”
“Those are the secretaries, the principal, the athletic director, and the counselors,” math teacher Paul Long explained.
A quick tour of the teacher’s lounge prompted citizens to call in their medical advisor, as they feared two of the inhabitants needed blood transfusions, defibrillation, or both. Citizen Med-Xanas could not find a pulse for reading teacher Sherry Ingram, though she proceeded to have an in-depth conversation with him about the humorous devices in Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, a text apparently prized on a plethora of planets.
“Apparently these teachers go into some sort of intellectual hibernation mode between the hours of 8 and 3:30 p.m., when they manage to separate their thinking capacities from their physical bodies,” said Citizen Med-Xanas. “It is perhaps a learned behavior brought on by irrationally-grouped segments of students consistently appearing inside their rooms, followed by less break time than a Zaporatic intern has on her expanded-duty triangulation rounds.”
The entire group of aliens exploded into laughter, and then an unnamed one said, “Little inside humor there. Sorry.”
Toward the end of their tour, the aliens were pleasantly surprised by a visit from the school superintendent Mark Easton, whose hair, one citizen snorted, “was slicker than the surface of a Rondo-217 model air-extenuator.”
Easton said of his school, “We welcome your input into our vertically-aligned school curriculum implemented with essential elements, as we work toward standardizing best practices and common core state standards.”
The aliens had no response but quickly left the building, even though they had been scheduled to observe an after-school faculty meeting, in which the principal was planning on dividing teachers from different departments into pairs and having them perform skits on the essential elements.
Before departing, Citizen Xantiatica said, “We will alert the intergalactic police that a Udabeckian infiltrator is masquerading as your superintendent. Unfortunately, the Udabeckians are noted for holding off entire armies with the mere stench of their manurish edu-speak. Good luck!”