Kids can be so cruel, and so hilarious

[via And I Am Not Lying]: What better way to celebrate International Women’s Day than this?

Finally!  Have you spent too much of your life wondering about all the different types of bitches there are in the world?  Have you exhausted yourself trying to catalogue them all, only to give up in despair.  Do you think, “It can’t be done!  There are just too many types of bitches!  No one could ever list them all!”

Well, prepare to get schooled.  Quite literally.  A 3rd grade teacher found this list on the floor of her classroom in Washington DC:

Read the original post for the complete list of bitches, and a great anaylsis of how this list may have come into being.

I know for me personally, “bitches who think they better than me” are my least favorite kind of bitches.  As a “short hair” bitch myself, I take offense to that one, and I am an occasional “pajamas outside” bitch as well.  But who wouldn’t harbor some resentment against a “staring in your face” bitch?  And I have definitely encountered a few “ain’t got no damn sense bitches” in my lifetime.

This is one of those times where I don’t know whether the appropriate thing is to tell these kids how inappropriate this is, or to just revel in the creativity.  Certainly, a lot of these are pretty hateful, but a lot of them are also pretty creative (and these kids know creativity, because they don’t like “uncreative bitches”).  As a teacher, it is really difficult to find the balance of encouraging creativity (which often necessitates being inappropriate and pushing the envelope) and maintaining decency.  Now, I’m not going to argue that this list is acceptable.  But it also probably took a whole lot of hard work to complete, and I believe they teach you in elementary school that the important thing is to write anything, as long as you’re writing.

Last week, in my 6th grade class, I gave all the kids a worksheet for an acting excercise– they had to draw a character and give the character a name.  One of the kids named his character Bean McWeiner.  Let me repeat that.  Bean McWeiner.  This might be the best fake name ever created, right after Turd Fergeson.  But as a teacher, what can I do?  If I tell him that I want to use that name in one of my comedy routines, would I be setting a bad example?  Would my approval make the name instantly uncool, losing its power?

I’m thinking about just calling this kid Bean McWeiner for the rest of the year.  Somehow, I feel like that would solve all my problems.