Schooled

by Deena Bright

  Dear Howard Stern:

  I love you. Long story short, I used to have to commute from Northeast Ohio to Columbus, Ohio for classes at Ohio State, due to personal reasons. I usually spent the beginning of my drive, wiping my tears from crying. Then, I’d turn on the radio, and you’d get me out of my funk. That was 20 years ago. I appreciate you and how you handle certain people and situations. You’re funny, witty, and fun. I hate Eric the Midget Douchebag Actor, and I miss Artie terribly. I have always wanted to tell you that you were remarkably impressive when you stayed on the radio, broadcasting information on the morning of 9/11. Truly wonderful! Thanks for being on the radio for me. Keep doing what you’re doing, screw the rest of the critics.

  Dear Stephenie Meyer (Writer of the Twilight Series and The Host):

  You did what writers have been wanting to do for years now; you brought back reading, a love of reading. My students worship you and carry around your books. As you can see from the criticism in my book, there are parts of your story that I cannot agree with or relate to, but the bottom line is that you got my students interested in reading; something I have been struggling with and trying to do for years. Kudos to you!

  I always said though that I needed to say something to you if I ever got the opportunity to do so. I guess this is my only chance. You have fans! Lots of them! Why are you leaving us (yes me) hanging? Poor Wanda has been with Ian in the dessert forever now. What is going on? I need to know. I loved The Host. The sexual tension in it was extraordinary. I want to be the meat in an Ian-Jared sandwich!

  Dear E.L. James (Writer of the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy):

  I don’t know how you did it, but you did it. You make sex seem less taboo and forbidden for some of these frigid bitches of America. People are talking, opening up, and even wanting more. I read Fifty Shades on vacation, and I need to say that I had nine orgasms in three days, which is unheard of for a 39-year-old wife and mother of four. Thank you. My husband thanks you. We are forever in your debt. It was A Hundred Shades of Wow vacation for me!

  Dear Suzanne Collins (Writer of the Hunger Games series):

  You are a remarkable writer. The Hunger Games is an incredible book, complete with literary superiority and thought. From page 24 on, I cried throughout the book. I empathized with the characters, fearing for their lives. I knew about half-way through the book that I wanted to teach the novel to my freshmen. By the end of the book, I had all of the paperwork filled out, approved, and an order placed for 125 books. The following year, each student read the book, cover-to-cover, and did extremely well on the test. It was fascinating to watch students in this day and age so engaged and enthralled in a book. You should be proud of yourself; I am inspired and awed by you.

  On a similar note, could you write an erotica series, featuring Katniss and Cinna, ensuring that Lenny Kravitz and Jennifer Lawrence star in the roles? The scene in the movie right before Katniss gets sucked up that pipe has loads of sexual tension. I think it could be a beautiful skin flick. Also, since I convinced my school to purchase 125 copies of your book, could you purchase 125 copies of Schooled? Fair is fair.

  Again, you are remarkable. Thank you for your art and talent.

  Dear Kathryn Stockett (Writer of The Help):

  I loved The Help; I recommended it to every one of my friends and even to my serious reading students. I wanted to share it with everyone. I describe it as the perfect book. It has the perfect amount of humor, love, friendship, sadness, and history, never going overboard on one theme. I loved it. Granted, I would love to change the end and have Aibileen steal Mae-Mobley and run to New York with Miss Skeeter, but hey, that’s just me. My heart broke for both of them. I like a happy, feel-good ending. That is the chick-lit lover in me. I could only dream of being a writer with your depth and wit.

  Dear Robert De Niro (Owner of Nobu Restaurant):

  Hey Robert De Niro, I’m talking to you! Yeah, I’m talking to you. I’ve never been to your restaurant, but I plan to see what all the celebrity hype is about someday. Howard Stern likes nothing and he likes your restaurant. It must be worth it. I’ll be in some time in the future.

  Dear Stephen Schwartz and Winnie Holzman (Writers and creators of the musical Wicked):

  I truly cannot express my awe of Wicked. When I returned from New York City, I talked of very little other than the musical. It was the most superb theater event I’ve ever witnessed. Going in to the theater, I wasn’t all that thrilled, because I was never a Wizard of Oz fan. I never really thought it was that great. Now, I cannot wait to introduce the Wizard of Oz to my children, so that I can one day take them to New York to see Wicked. The creativity and writing was beyond anything I’ve ever witnessed; it was clever and full of surprises and intelligent humor.

  In my senior English class, I always choose literature that we can analyze two sides of each story. I need Wicked to be a movie, so we can watch it and analyze how the story changes and evolves, granting empathy to characters one didn’t deem worthy. Actually, I wish I were watching it right now. Additionally, the beach towel that I bought at the musical is by far the greatest beach towel on the planet. It is bigger, softer, and cozier than any other beach towel I’ve ever owned. Seriously, great beach towel, great show, just all around great. I mean business when I sing the praises of Wicked.

  Dear Jim Jacobs and Warren Casey (Writers and creators of the musical Grease):

  I love you; I’ve always loved you. I spent my childhood years wanting to be Sandy in that final scene, not realizing she changed who she was to fit the ideals of a man, but I wanted to be her. Who didn’t? I even directed Grease when I was the high school musical director. It turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself. In my adult years, I realize that I really want to be Rizzo and sing “There are Worse Things.” What a great song! Also, my husband and I karaoke to “Summer Nights” whenever there’s an opportunity. We are awful, horrific really. Thank you for being an important part of my childhood, adolescence, and adulthood. Grease is the word.

  Dear March of Dimes:

  I hate that you exist. Meaning, I hate that you HAVE to exist. I hate that so many babies and their families need your help; it’s truly heartbreaking. I wish I could take away all the pain for those little babies, vanishing the fear and suffering for their parents too. I watched my friend crumble as her baby suffered and died. It was the most horrific thing I’ve ever witnessed. I commend you for your work. Thank you for what you do.

  Dear Steve Abrams (Owner of Magnolia Bakery):

  Yeah, you’ve got some damn good cupcakes. Delicious, worth every penny, and the excruciatingly long wait. However, the banana cream pie is even better, TO DIE FOR. It’s a good thing you aren’t located in Northeast Ohio. I’d have to live in your bakery, which would be horrendous for my health and girth. I’ll see you next time I’m in New York.

  Dear my totally-in love-lesbian friends:

  I am sorry that you have a TOUGH road ahead of you; the general public is ignorant and intolerant. Don’t give up. There will be happiness at the end of the rainbow. Get it? Rainbow! Thank you for helping with the lesbian sex knowledge. I appreciate your help and honesty. May each state wake up and realize that two people, despite what they’re packing (or not packing) between their legs have the opportunity to get married. Love is love.

  Dear Chelsea Handler:

  You rock my life. I started reading your books shortly after having a baby, and damn, did I need that. I think you cured my post-partum depression with full out belly bouncing laughter. Your books are amazing. You are the “funny” I want to be. My girlfriends and I saw you in Cleveland—hilarious. I often thought that I could be the comedienne you are, if I were tall, blonde, thin, and sexy. Yes, mark that down, I called you thin. Thank you for the laughs.

  Dear Henry David Thoreau:

  I like you. I love what you stand for, olden-day tree hugger! Although, I believe in your “Simplify, Simplify,” I am so not that person. I have totally sold out and love the luxuries
in life. I’m sorry. But, I do enjoy teaching your works to my students. Even though, I am a materialistic mess, maybe I can convince my students not to be. Can we call it even?

  Dear Dan Brown:

  When I read your books, I feel really smart. While reading Angels and Demons, I got so scared that I actually hid my book under my bed, away from me for six weeks. Finally, I got it back out and finished it. That dirt part was crazy scary. You must do a ton of research. The only research I did for my book was to ask my daughter how many characters were allowed in a Twitter post. Dare to dream….

  Dear David Baldacci:

  I’m sorry to admit this, but I’ve never read anything from you. However, I needed to give you a shout out, because you are my husband’s favorite author. If you read above, I cannot handle scary or suspenseful material. My husband said that I should probably steer clear of your books. I’m sorry.

  Dear Cosmopolitan Magazine:

  You were my 20s. Without you, my husband wouldn’t be married to the ever-horny vixen that he is today. You taught me a lot. Just recently, I got another subscription, and was disappointed that I may have “outgrown” you. I think you are for the 20-somethings, teaching them to be experimental, but safe. I loved you; I think you are an important magazine for young women to read and explore. Thank you. My husband thanks you.

  Dear Facebook and Twitter:

  Facebook, I may be a little addicted to you. I love posting the crazy things my kids do and say; I love showing anyone who will look pictures of my family. I really think I could be a spokeswoman for Facebook. I still cannot believe that there are still people, people I actually know, who don’t have an account. Stupid asses. I would like to recommend a “dislike” button. That would make me uber happy.

  Twitter, I don’t have an account. I am not that technologically savvy. Actually, I think I do have one, but I’m not really sure what to do with it. How do I get people to “follow” me? Where am I going? It’s probably something that I should have, considering I have a book to advertise and all now. I’ll ask my students to help me. They do all that junk for me. Oh wait! They cannot know about my dirty book. Ah, forget it.

  Dear Alcoholics Anonymous (AA):

  I’m sorry I only referred to you as a joke. You are no joke, but yet a very important organization, changing and bettering lives every day. Please keep up the good work, helping individuals stay sober. For any readers interested, you can visit the Alcoholics Anonymous website for local listings and meeting locations. Telephone directories will assist you in finding a local chapter near you.

  Dear Robert Frost:

  My favorite poem to teach by you is “Stopping By Woods On a Snowy Evening.” I did a whole lesson on imagery with it. It was pretty cool. If you were, ya know, alive, I think you’d have liked it. My second favorite is “Fire and Ice,” but neither fit into my book/dream scene. Therefore, I went with your most popular, making it seem like I just do what everyone else does. And ya know those two roads, the ones in the woods? I wouldn’t have taken either of them. I would never been alone in the woods. Too scary, and plus, the woods have creepy scurrying things.

  Dear Michigan:

  Here’s a secret, I don’t hate you. Actually, I don’t hate you at all. Without you, where would the fun be in the rivalry? Being an Ohio State alumna, I enjoy the “smack talk” with Michigan fans, but I understand the importance of our relationship. Mid-November every year wouldn’t be what it is today without y’all up north. Looking forward to seeing you again soon, and until then, GO BUCKS! MICHIGAN SUCKS!

  Acknowledgments

  (With song lyrics for enhancement)

  I would like to take this opportunity to thank the following people, the people in my life who helped make my dream, this book, a reality.

  My husband: You are no Marcus Garrity. You are a compilation of Briggs and Leo, the perfect man. You believe in me, support me, and satisfy me. Without you, my puzzle would be missing many integral pieces. “There’s no way, I could make it without you.” (Alabama)

  My children: I want to give you the world, have you want for nothing. Eh, but I’m making a teacher’s salary. I needed to do something to supplement that piddling pence. Most importantly, I want you to grow up knowing that fulfilling your dreams is not only a possibility, but a must. Set your goals high, dare to achieve them, but hold on to the memories and cherish the moments. “I don’t know where the time goes, but it sure goes fast.” (Kenny Chesney)

  My brother and sister: My rocks, my foundation. Without you both, I still doubt I’d be here today to be the wife, mother, friend, teacher, and writer I am today. “I’m everything I am, because you loved me.” (Celine Dion)

  My friends, especially the “adventurous” ones (you know who you are): You fulfill my life, decorating my days with laughter and fun. Your stories have inspired much of this book. You all lived what I was afraid to live and embrace. “So much of me is made from what I learned from you/You’ll be with me like a handprint on my heart.” (Wicked) Man, I love Wicked.

  Kelli Maine: Thank you for breaking through the barrier I was terrified to broach. You’re a warrior! Thank you for being my friend in every aspect of my life. Don’t puke in my car again! You get no lyrics, your lyrics are back up a notch with my friends. (Readers: You need to read Taken by Kelli Maine.)

  My hand-picked and much appreciated slew of early readers and critics: Thank you for helping me, critiquing my work, and being so supportive throughout this entire endeavor. I nicknamed you all, so you could feel like your name, although mysteriously cryptic, is in a book. You’ll each be able to figure out who you are. (Broadcast, Cummington, Pook-Moose, Aurora, Nacho, Big Yucky, Poop-Story Lover, Double D, Softball coach, and Sofia’s mom)

  My graphic designer (Sophie Chamberlain): My friend, always, no matter what your title is. It’s been a sad, long road, but you’ve always been there for me, cheering me on. You will forever have a special place in my heart, especially since you always laugh at my jokes. For anyone interested in a graphic designer, then please contact her at: sophiechamberlain42677@gmail.com Tell her your friend, Deena, recommended her. Sophie is highly creative and imaginative! You’ll love her work.

  Joan Swan (Author of Intimate Enemies, Fever, and Blaze): Thank you for being such a fun “pen pal” and inspiring me to write more and be proud of my own work. You are truly a trip, making me laugh at all times. Your books are hot, steamy, and a great escape. I am lucky to have cyber-stalked you.

  Olivia Cunning (Author of Backstage Pass—Sinners on Tour Series): Damn girl, you can write. Your Sinners series has kept me (and my husband) quite happy. You can describe a man and a scene to perfection. Wow. Additionally, thank you for your kind words of wisdom, helping me to decide my future.

  My beloved and thoroughly missed mother: You gave me a love of literature. Watching you read, fly through book after book, is my clearest memory of you. There are many times when I wish we could go back to the days of you sitting on one end of the couch reading a monstrous-sized book, me on the other end, reading my Peggy Parrish chapter books. I’m not so sure that you’d love Schooled; you’d probably think it was garbage. However, you would be proud that I wrote book. You’d be happy to know that my protagonist, and I have very little in common. “Did you ever know that you’re my hero?/You’re everything I wish I could be.” (Bette Midler)

  Special Note

  Dear My School District:

  I love my teaching job. I love raising my kids here, being a part of this close-knit and outstanding community. I am proud to be here, honored and humbled to be a part of this district. Please don’t fire me! I’ve never slept with a student, not even remotely close. I love my students; they’re my kids, nothing more. We teach our students to dream big, work hard, and it will all pay off in the end. This was my “dream big.” I do work hard every day, inspiring the future of America, but they have in turn inspired me to reach my goals.

  The general public, the political leaders, even many of the par
ents, have no idea what we see and deal with every day. This just isn’t about summers off and holidays breaks. It’s not about the high wages and great retirement (laughable). It’s about the kids, the kids whose lives we touch (not physically) every day. We have children under our watch who don’t have homes, who lose their parents to death and divorce, who watch their siblings overdose, who struggle financially to help raise their younger siblings, and this is a pretty affluent and respectable community. This building, this place, is a safe haven for many children, sometimes the only place they can call home. The teachers who really care, who want to really make a difference are dying out. The general public and politicians are ruining it for us. We have so few perks, and they’re all being ripped away, destroying the morale and spirit in teachers everywhere. I want to be here. I want to change lives, inspire kids.

  Remember that when you read this.

  Sincerely,

  Deena Bright

  Dedicated and Loyal Teacher

  About the Author

  Deena Bright is every woman: a wife, a mother, a friend, a sister, and a teacher, nothing more, nothing less. She could be the woman next to you in line at the grocery store, the woman sitting next to you in church, or even, God forbid, your son’s teacher. If you’d like to know more about her, then just ask. She loves people and fun, and especially partaking in witty conversations. Look her up on Facebook or email her directly at: deenabrightwrites@gmail.com. She wants to warn you though; she doesn’t take criticism well. You may reduce her to a crumbling, crying pile of tears, so tread lightly on your words of criticism and ridicule.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five