dani 🧘🏾‍♀️

5’7 cept i’m feelin 7’5

[maria ˃ 𖥦 ˂(dms for skin removal only) @90smiau]

explaining empathy to americans:

[yagi @yducknow]

how life feels when nobody knows what you're up to or where you are

[𝕊𝕒𝕞𝕞𝕪 @FromN5_]

When u both don’t chase so you just never talk again

[PEPPERS @WHITEH0TPEPPERS]

THIS GIF????? 😭😭😭 sabrina is real asf for that

[DammyAyo💕 @dartgurlie]

They say it takes 21 days to form a habit, but it took me 2 days of vacation to get used to not working

[💗 @ma1ybe]

Just interviewed for a job and when I told them my salary expectations they asked if it was negotiable.
I said “yes, I’m always willing to accept more”.

[Boze Herrington, Library Owl 😴🧙‍♀️ @SketchesbyBoze]

“Why are folks getting dumber?” Because they don’t read. “Why aren’t men as romantic & poetic as they used to be?” Because they don’t read. “Why are people so vulnerable to propaganda?” “Why is everyone a conspiracy theorist?” Because they don’t read. Because they don’t read.

[GIO @Iuhwalk]

white girl covering her nose next to me in the lecture my bad ik dis margiela eau de parfum sumn ur nose not used to

[dani 🧘🏾‍♀️ @danisteppp]

I got balloons on my page 🥳

[L E F T, PhD ⚫️ @LeftSentThis]

We are living in an age where music, once the sacred language of the human experience, has been captured, encoded, and repackaged by machines that have never known hunger, never known love, never known heartbreak, never wept from the weight of being misunderstood, or wept from the feeling of finally being seen.

We are literally entering a musical era of soul-lessness.

This is an abomination masking itself as innovation.

[orph @orph_]

i have this friend who always hypes up & celebrates my tiniest achievements, which i used to find cringe & fairly annoying (~shame-driven protective minimization)

but bit by it, her persistence got me to start seeing my wins through her eyes, & now, every once in a while I catch myself celebrating things in the way she showed me to

get yourself friends like this

[bum @BattleRapBum]

SWITCH ‼️
NYC GO CRAZZZAAYY ‼️

[dani 🧘🏾‍♀️ @danisteppp]

i ❤️beautiful, brilliant, people especially women

[MISS VIRGO @varruechexo]

You bitches sin all year but scared of October 31st SHUTUP BITCH

[ً @cryst6ls]

told my students i would give them halloween stickers in the afternoon if they have a better day than yesterday and one of them goes “oh it’s okay. i have stickers at home actually”

[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.

[thamma ajanna 𓇼 @piinkst4rr]

i wish every time yall used ai it killed yall

[Cjay @ced_jayy]

If I bite into a donut and there’s cheesecake inside I might start crying tears of joy, and I’m not playing.

[Vivian @suchnerve]

it’s just very telling if the nicest thing anybody can say about you is that you have relatives

[nat ☆ @natsinctrl]

what it feels like to swipe through instagram stories rn