Shana Boo ❤️

My name is Shana (Shh-ahh-nahh) ❤️ mainly on here for Big Brother talk 😂 Check out my jewelry designs! @MadewLoveJWL

[Shana Boo ❤️ @Shadance89]

@ashleyhollis_ Just rewatched your season.. still can’t believe she’s gone 😔🩷

[Shana Boo ❤️ @Shadance89]

Anyone else think the new #bigbrother promo colors remind them of the weather map thingy? Hurricane Howie? 😂 I’m totally thinking out of the box here but expect the unexpected #bb28

[Shana Boo ❤️ @Shadance89]

@NutellaUSA @Sweeptoday 1! These sound so good! @20bmg08

[Shana Boo ❤️ @Shadance89]

@MrOwl Ah these are going to be so good! 😍 @20bmg08

[ᗰᗩƳᖇᗩ @LePapillonBlu2]

Can someone please explain to me why Donald Trump is being allowed to desecrate historic buildings, sites, and structures without any pushback?

[Shana Boo ❤️ @Shadance89]

Does anyone remember what season of Big Brother had a giant game board that the houseguests had to step on and do different things when they rolled the dice? It’s driving me crazy that I can’t think of it 😂 #bb27 #BigBrother

[Shana Boo ❤️ @Shadance89]

@kryndolyn June 9 🩷

[Aaron Parnas @AaronParnas]

NEW: Epstein survivors release the most powerful PSA I have ever seen.

Make this go viral so every member of the House of Representatives sees it.

[Dutchy Patrick @DutchyPatrick]

Finally someone said it….

[Matt @nosoupforgeorge]

Call me a radical liberal, but I just don't think a pedophile should be President of the United States.

[Shana Boo ❤️ @Shadance89]

@McDonalds Mini beanie baby happy meals!!

[Sen. Bernie Sanders @SenSanders]

During the shutdown, Trump could find $40 billion to bail out Argentina & $300 million for a ballroom to host dinner parties with billionaires, but he won’t tap emergency funds to prevent millions of American kids from going hungry?

How cruel is that?

[Shana Boo ❤️ @Shadance89]

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

[𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗻𝘆🫧💚 @beyoncegarden]

HE CHEWED HIM UP SO BAD HERE LMFAOOO😭😭😭

[Shana Boo ❤️ @Shadance89]

@AMikeBloomType I started crying when that happened with Jag and Jas.. I’m so upset that this shit happens 😔 breaks my heart and makes me so angry

[Shana Boo ❤️ @Shadance89]

Oh damn 🩷👏🏻 #bb27

[danielle 🌸 @xtrathots]

#EVERYBODYTALKS Morgan & Vince

if ya here for the mess 😗✌️ #bb27

[Shana Boo ❤️ @Shadance89]

😂😂😂😭😭 #bb27

[Khadj @GanzgangK]

Vince basically https://t.co/mdwheD14MP

[Shana Boo ❤️ @Shadance89]

I miss them 😔 #bb27

[casi 🦉🦉 @Cassidy1298848]

one more melodramatic mince edit for the road #bb27 #morgan #vince

[Shana Boo ❤️ @Shadance89]

Okay I’m crying 😔😭🩷🩷 ugh this breaks my heart

[Travis Akers 🇺🇸 @travisakers]

A message from a Kindergarten teacher:

After forty years in the classroom, my career ended with one small sentence from a six-year-old:

“My dad says people like you don’t matter anymore.”

No sneer. No malice. Just quiet honesty — the kind that cuts deeper because it’s innocent. He blinked, then added, “You don’t even have a TikTok.”

My name is Mrs. Clara Holt, and for four decades, I taught kindergarten in a small Denver suburb. Today, I stacked the last box on my desk and locked the door behind me.

When I started teaching in the early 1980s, it felt like a promise — a shared belief that what we did mattered. We weren’t rich, but we were valued. Parents brought warm cookies to parent nights. Kids gave you handmade cards with hearts that didn’t quite line up. Watching a child sound out their first sentence felt like magic.

But that world slowly slipped away. The job I once knew has been replaced by exhaustion, red tape, and a kind of loneliness I can’t quite describe.

My evenings used to be filled with construction paper, glitter, and glue sticks. Now they’re spent filling out digital reports to protect myself from angry emails or lawsuits. I’ve been yelled at by parents in front of twenty-five children — one filming me with his phone while I tried to calm another child mid-meltdown.

And the kids… they’ve changed too. Not by choice.

They arrive tired, anxious, overstimulated. Their tiny fingers know how to swipe a screen before they can hold a crayon. Some can’t make eye contact or wait in line. We’re expected to fix all of it — to patch the gaps, heal the trauma, teach the curriculum, and document every move — in six hours a day, with resources that barely fill a drawer.

The little reading corner I once built, full of soft beanbags and paper stars, was replaced by data charts and “learning metrics.” A young principal once told me, “Clara, maybe you’re too nurturing. The district wants measurable results.”

As if kindness were a weakness.

Still, I stayed. Because of the small, holy moments that no spreadsheet could measure —
a whisper of, “You remind me of my grandma.”
a shaky note that read, “I feel safe here.”
a quiet boy finally meeting my eyes and saying, “I read the whole page.”

Those tiny sparks were my reason to keep showing up.

But this last year broke something in me.

The aggression grew sharper. The laughter in the staff room turned to silence. The light went out of so many eyes. I watched brilliant teachers — my friends — vanish under the weight of burnout, their joy replaced by survival.

I felt myself fading too, like chalk on a board that’s been wiped one too many times.

So today, I began my goodbye. I pulled faded art off the walls and tucked thirty years of handmade cards into a single box. In the back of a drawer, I found a letter from a student from 1998:

“Thank you for loving me when I was hard to love.”

I sat on the floor and cried.

No party. No applause. Just a handshake from a young principal who called me “Ma’am” while checking his notifications.

I left my rocking chair behind, and my sticker box too. What I carried with me were the memories — the faces of hundreds of children who once trusted me enough to reach out their hands and learn. That can’t be uploaded. It can’t be measured. It can’t be replaced.

I miss when teachers were partners, not targets. When parents and educators worked side by side, not in opposition. When schools cared more about wonder than numbers.

So if you know a teacher — any teacher — thank them. Not with a mug or a gift card, but with your words. With your respect. With your understanding that behind every test score is a heart that cared enough to try.

Because in a world that often overlooks them, teachers are the ones who never forget our children.

[Shana Boo ❤️ @Shadance89]

@Animalsdaily6 @allenanalysis Oh man.. I’m sitting here crying watching this 😔🩷

[Shana Boo ❤️ @Shadance89]

“Don’t lose hope” 😔🩷

[Brian Allen @allenanalysis]

🚨 NEW: Netflix secretly recorded an interview with Dr. Jane Goodall in March, set to air only after her death.

In it, she says she wishes Trump and Elon Musk could be blasted into space… and closes with:

“Don’t lose hope.”

Now that’s a final message.