A random weird memory of my childhood just popped into my head (cause you know, insomnia) from Kindergarten we had 2 aliens (dolls? Stuffed? Don’t really remember although I remember them being big) that would periodically come visit our 2 K classes to teach us the alphabet.

Their names were Astro and Astra (brother $ sister, natch) & they came down to earth from outer space every few weeks or so to teach us a new letter. And we WERE LIVING FOR IT. When it was an alien day we all collectively lost our little 5 year-old minds.

This was 85-86 so you’re probably understanding why we had a space theme. Learning the alphabet culminated in us all huddled around the TV cart (all 80s kids know & love the day that bad boy was wheeled in) on our colorful sit spots, watching the Challenger launch.

And when it exploded, the 2 teachers immediately turned the TV off & acted like nothing happened. They hid heir shock & grief SO WELL that all 40 of us had no clue what we just watched. We just went back to our desks & did something else, not understanding why it was so short.

Teachers, man. They shielded us all from that trauma and grief then, they’ve shielded our children from 20 years of school shootings, & now we’re just telling them to get back to work, suck it up, & stop complaining about risking their lives & their families lives. End thread.