Stories from the Classroom and Beyond
Welcome to my blog, where I will share tales that didn’t make it in the book (and some
wild ones that some of my colleagues experienced), thoughts on writing You Can’t Make This Stuff Up: Stories of a Tired Former Teacher and reflections on what’s next.
Check back for new posts, and feel free to drop me a line with your own stories!
Post 1: Why I Finally Wrote the Book
Posted April 2025
In my best Sophia Petrillo voice- “Picture it, 2020.” It was the beginning of people being asked to stay inside for what was supposed to start off as two weeks, and ended up being months on end. Instead of going stir crazy, as many did, I found solace in my house and decided to write down some of my favorite memories as a teacher as a stream of consciousness exercise. I would visit that document daily for weeks on end. By the time mid-2020 rolled around, the file on my Google Drive was an afterthought that would be revisited off and on three years after that fateful spring whenever a pick-me-up was needed. And then the party that changed everything occurred- Christmas 2023. A brief discussion about my contributions being published in a textbook led to the revelation of the document hidden on my Google Drive for my eyes only. Encouragement led to five drafts, a ton of frustration, and the goal to cross off my bucket list- a dream my 9 year old self always had- to write a book. Hence, You Can’t Make This Stuff Up: Stories of a Tired Former Teacher will be ready for publication June 2025. I hope you laugh. I hope you can relate. I hope you enjoy the stories that I’ve told at dinner parties and any event where an audience would form when they would learn that I was an educator.
Post 2: Life After Teaching
Posted May 2025
It’s been almost a year since I sent that school-wide email announcing my resignation. Has every day been easy? No. I am working in an industry that I tried to run from (see Chapter 1 of my book), but I also saw the writing on the wall of job security for the future. I have spent the past year learning a whole new vernacular and adjusting to new opportunities for growth.
Have I missed the students? Sometimes. Have I missed my colleagues? The great ones, yes. But at the end of the day, I realized that this was one of the best and healthiest moves I ever had to make. I love the fact that I’ve been able to look at my new job as a job and not a ‘calling’, so it makes it easier to close my laptop at the end of the workday. I’m learning that when I feel ‘off’, I can take a day and it’s not earth-shattering and no one is guilting me to be in the office or online.
Have there been obstacles over this past year? YES. But truly, I am grateful for these obstacles because they have made me stronger and ingrained in me that life is too short to commiserate over the irrelevant. If you stand at a crossroads and have been worried about where you’ll land after you leap, leaping with wisdom and not emotion is going to yield better results- not always the ones you want, but definitely the ones you need.
Post 3: The Writing Process
Posted June 2025
Growing up, I was jealous of the kids who were the great writers and thinkers because I felt I didn’t measure up. Once I entered the classroom, the compliment that I often received was that I was a great storyteller- whether regaling history or telling friends, coworkers and family about my adventures in the classroom. I was always encouraged to write a book, and let me tell you, it wasn’t easy.
I had my ego crushed a few times! Recently, a former student wrote my first Amazon review and he gave me a 9/10 because he wasn’t in the book (all in humor, of course). I decided to send him what I did write about him in the first draft and he saw for himself the progression from the first draft to the final book that he stayed up and read in one night! I am grateful for the women in my life who gave me some REAL feedback. When I looked back at the first draft that I was almost conned into publishing in August of 2024 to what is for sale today, I’m glad I didn’t take the nibble to publish that first draft. I’m glad I went through the internal struggle and quit quietly a few times because it built the stamina I needed to put out the product I have today.
On the flip side, perfection was my enemy. I think if I didn’t have a moment of sanity to say “enough” and told the publishing team to publish my book, I promise you, I’d still be modifying and expanding the book.
My writing process wasn’t orthodox. I wrote when I felt inspired. I wrote everywhere and anywhere. Sorry Pastor Travis, but I sometimes wrote in church because inspiration would hit or a memory had to be written down. Writing while inspired helped me because there were times when I would flow and then there were days or sometimes weeks that I didn’t do any writing at all. If you’re a writer or wish to write a book, find your niche and don’t let perfection become your neurosis. You’ll know when to put the pen down (or step away from the keyboard).
If you’ve ever been a teacher for longer than a couple of hours, you’ve got stories. These
are the kinds of stories that sound too wild to be true—except they are. Join me, J.K.
Lynch, a former educator with 20 years of experience, as I revisit the funniest, most
thought-provoking, and downright unbelievable moments from my career. From chaotic
classrooms to heartfelt breakthroughs, these stories will leave you laughing, nodding,
and saying, “You can’t make this stuff up!”
Sitting on the side of my deflating Sleep Number bed one hot June afternoon, I was
wondering about the decision I made and what was about to happen. With the lengthy
conversation going on in my head about the repercussions of my decision, I was
ignoring the screensaver that was flashing pictures of my Bermuda and Bahamas trips
on my television. Restlessly picking up and putting down my cell phone on the
nightstand, I had finally put the phone down for longer than 30 seconds.
Me, hearing the chorus of the song “If It Isn’t Love” by New Edition in my otherwise
silent bedroom could only mean one thing, and it wasn’t me finally snapping after
teaching for many years. My phone’s ringtone was playing one of my favorite songs,
loud and clear. Screening calls, I saw that it was Mrs. D’Angelo, the Associate Principal
of Mashantucket High School.
“Good evening, Mrs. D’Angelo.”
“Good evening, Mr. Lynch.”
“I see you saw my resignation.”
“Yes. What happened? Did something happen?”
“Yes. I found another job.”
“Oh. I thought that something happened because your resignation said ‘effective
immediately.’ I wanted to see what I could have done to make it alright. Mashantucket
High is not going to be the same without you.”
“Mashantucket High School is going to be fine.” Awkward silence.
“Mr. Lynch, I wish you the best of luck.”
“Thanks, Mrs. D’Angelo. Take care.”
And just like that, a twenty-year career was over.
My middle school experience was when I thought I was going to be fired and fail my
student teaching experience. The staff at that school was the antithesis of the staff at the
high school I student taught at. My cooperating teacher was not as friendly as my first
one, but she did her best to be nice. Out of all of her classes, I loved working with her
end-of-day Honors U.S. History class. They were sweet, with the right mix of silly that
was needed at the end of a long school day.
On the other hand, there was a kid who had the same last name as mine who was in
my collaborative U.S. History class that was in the period prior to the honors class. In
that ginormous classroom that was at the back of the school, my cooperating teacher
had a table that was a half-moon located at the front of the classroom. She thought it
would be best to put the younger Mr. Lynch at the front of the room with one other peer.
The younger Mr. Lynch was annoyingly adorable with his unwashed plats and knew at
thirteen years old how to push the right buttons, and none of my “leave the kids with their
dignity” lessons clicked. Prior to the class period starting one afternoon, the younger Mr.
Lynch hit the right nerve on the right day, and we started arguing—in front of the
cooperating teacher and her exceptional education teacher. No one else seemed to be
in the room, but us and our voices continued to modulate upward. The rest of the class
seemed quiet, not knowing whether to be scared or entertained.
What felt like an eternity of bickering lasted maybe about a minute. It wasn’t until the
cooperating teacher yelled, “STOP IT!” that I realized what I was doing. This was not one
of my shining moments as a teacher, but it wouldn’t be the last. I regained my
composure and started the class, terrified that my cooperating teacher was going to tell
my professor and I was going to fail my student teaching experience. Oddly enough, she
never said anything to my professor. I believe she gave me the grace of realizing that
every teacher has that “moment.” It’s what they do after being called on their error in
judgment that makes all the difference. I wish I could say that I never had one of those
moments again, but I’ll say by the time I left the classroom, those moments almost never
happened. I had learned a centering mantra could go a long way. Mine was, “I have to
pay my mortgage.”