I’ve always hated being asked
by the student council
to kiss a pig at the next assembly,
shave my head bald
if they raise a thousand dollars,
wear an ugly holiday sweater
like a penance,
get hit in the face
with a shaving cream pie,
be in the dunk tank the last day of school,
or do the dab dance move
in front of the classroom.
My comment is always,
“It’s not in my contract.”
What I want to say is
part of my job is to teach respect,
not to humiliate myself
as a fool in your comedy.
I am not your monkey.
