I come into the staff room. One lady immediately says: “You’re young and smart,” and then proceeds to ask me about some musician.

“Here’s the thing,” I say. “I was homeschooled and I’m really not into pop culture. So, I can’t really help you out on that one.”

“Homeschooled?” she says. “He’s got good music. You really missed out.”

Here we go again. I’m not sure why I even mention at my job that I’m homeschooled  (I work in the school district). The reactions are always the same.

“Homeschooled and smart,” I say. “And there’s a lot of other great music I like. So I doubt I’ve missed out too much.”

I settle on the far end of the room and set up my asthma nebulizer. I have a mix of early laryngitis and asthma.

Over the sound of my machine I hear a bunch of nasty verbiage about Trump, our recently elected president. Buggers.

I turn off my machine and look up. It’s that one gal. “You have to be nice,” I say gently with my half apologetic look that I typically use to soften people up.

She tells me she’s seventy and doesn’t have to be nice. She then proceeds to tell me exactly what she thinks of Trump, with her nasty potty mouth included (which cracks me up because that’s what I’ve been getting after two of our autistic kids for lately).

I say gently: “He’s our president.”

“He’s not MY president!” she tells me.

(Well then, move to Canada, I say in myour head).

My other coworkers kept their heads down and their mouths shut, per usual. And I know at least one gal is a Christian.

What would America be like if more Christians spoke up?

I somewhat shrug it off and go back to my nebulizing and Bible reading.

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