(Dick, get me a fucking cigarette! If I have to speak to the common folk, Mommy’s gotta have her Marbs)
Hey darlings, it’s your girl Betsy, large and in charge. I’m writing you from inside the head office of The Department of Education, living my best life, gettin’ my glow on in 2017, aka Betsy’s year, baby. Ever since my main man Donald hooked me up with the gig, education never looked so damn gorgeous. (Dick, what I did I tell you about when Betsy’s in deep thought? Lord knows I already had to spend my time looking up the definitions of ‘growth’ and ‘proficiency’, but now you’re on my ass about what? Donald again? Honey, if you don’t want me calling him my ‘main man’, maybe you can fetch Betsy some scotch? On the rocks, just how Betsy likes it. That’s a good boy.)
Now, where was I?
Me of course! And let me tell you about all about the things that the first lady of charter’s is gonna do for you. For one, forget about school choice honey. Believe me, we all know that you don’t want your booger brain kid mashed together with the organically fed, satan-spawned children of millennials in a safe-space Montessori wasteland. No, honey, we’re gonna give your kids the education of the lord. He has guided my steps, and believe me, when I’m done with them, your children will be guided by them too. They’ll have so many bible verses in their little brains that they won’t have time to listen to Chance the Hip-Hopper or whatever these urban youth tune out to. Nuh uh honey, not when your girl Betsy is around. The only music coming into your kids ears will be the teachings of the original emcees, Paul and John. There’s no time for any other of that stuff. Art isn’t education unless you want your little boy or girl hanging out with the flamboyant theater freaks. And we all know what the lord thinks of that. Wipe your hands clean of that sin, ladies.
Now, I want to address something very near and dear to my heart. Dozens of women from around the country have been writing and emailing me frantically, asking “Betsy darling, what are you ever gonna do about those grizzlies?” Let me tell you, many women didn’t even know about this epidemic until I brought it up at my confirmation hearing. Even that no-good harlet Elizabeth Warren was shocked when she heard. Let me tell you, matching a navy blue blazer isn’t the only thing ol’ Betsy has an edge on against that witch. Grizzlies are threatening the safety of our children on the daily, and you be a goddamned fool if Betsy isn’t gonna roll up her sleeves and tackle this issue head-on. I’ll start by assigning this problem onto someone lower than me, and then have them work it all out. Listen, I can’t stress myself with the details. Beautiful skin at my age doesn’t come by individually figuring it out. I’ll just credit myself when we find a solution.
(What do you want Dick? Of course I get to take credit for it! I’m the head of the department, aren’t I? What, you think Donald thought of the wall thing himself? You know what, I’m done with you Dick. Tell you what, I looked up the definition of “growth”, and your “dick” wasn’t it. Oh, you’re offended now. Like your Amway money had nothing to do with Betsy hangin around. You’re a goddamned fool. Betsy’s scotch glass is running dry, by the way. I suggest you fill it up, otherwise Devos and the ladies are going out for shoes, and you KNOW which multibillion dollar company is gonna have to foot the bill.)
Listen, ladies, time is of the essence, and I don’t have all day to wallow in the miseries of the disenfranchised. To end this letter, I’m gonna read an email from seven-year-old Naomi Smith in Detroit, Michigan, my home state! The email says “Dear Secretary Devos (you like that ladies?). My question for you is this: My mother was worried that you kept dodging the questions at your confirmation hearing about holding private and public schools to the same standards. Will you make sure that I can learn just as well as my neighbors?” What a lovely question, Naomi, truly special. The answer, of course, is no. Listen, I was just trying to save my ass up there on the stand. Let me tell you, they got me. Why would I ever hold privates and publics at the same level? To put it in some modern speak, That’s like asking me to compare ‘Saved By The Bell” with “Saved By The Bell: The New Class”. Sure, the students look the same, but isn’t it just depressing to compare the two? Let’s just remember the greatness of one, and then we won’t have to worry what happens to the other.
Anyways ladies, that’s all the time your darling of education Betsy has for you. Stay classy, and your children will too.
(Dick I don’t care what you say, we’re getting White Castle on the way home! I know it’s not gourmet, but Momma can’t resist a good set of sliders.)