CNF: I’m the Teacher They Make Memes About
by Jennifer Edwards
Home on winter break, unshowered, slightly buzzed, overtired, binge-watching 90-day Fiancé, hedging bets about which relationships will last. My husband says, Babe, you’re blending in! He sends a photo to our friends group chat documenting my obsession with Buffalo Plaid. My disembodied head floats in a congealed mass of my fleece-lined long sweater, knit blanket, and throw pillows of the same black and white print. I’m dissolving into comfort. He grins & waves his whole arm from across the sectional, smiling hello like Forrest Gump on a shrimp boat. I laugh & he pretends to be startled; Oh, I didn’t see you there! We’re confused when a girl on TV talks of Tylenol or first child an all. How long were we not paying attention? Wait, is there a child involved? We rewind. Oh, she meant tell all! It’s funny being wrong in different ways. Nobody speaks clearly anymore, I complain. Mmmhmm, he agrees. Or actually listens, I continue. Ya, exactly, he mumbles, down to his phone.
Jennifer R. Edwards’ collection, Unsymmetrical Body (Finishing Line Press) was an Eric Hoffer Honorable Mention, First Horizon Finalist, and Boston Author’s Club Julia Ward Howe Award Finalist. Her poems have received Pushcart and Best of the Net nominations, the New England Poetry Club Amy Lowell Prize, 6th place for the Poetry Super Highway contest, the Thomas Lux Poetry Fellowship from Palm Beach Poetry Festival and other support. Her poems appear in several anthologies and journals including Iron Horse Literary Review, The Shore, Beaver Magazine, RHINO, ELJ, MER, One Art, and Terrain. She’s a neurodiversity-affirming speech-language pathologist in public schools, and MFA in Writing candidate at Bennington Writing Seminars. She’s a curator for Button Poetry and serves on the board of the New Hampshire Poetry Society as events coordinator. https://linktr.ee/JenEdwards @JenEdwards8
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What surprising, fascinating stuff can you tell us about the origin, drafting, and/or final version of “I’m the Teacher They Make Memes About ”? This piece really was a frank depiction of some biographical events that I wrote immediately the night it occurred. I’m a speech therapist for a public school and last winter break was so worn out that I found myself really dissolving into watching reality TV, getting takeout, and practically hibernating as never before. Suddenly, I could recognize myself in circulating teacher memes, the long sweaters and lounging and avoiding interaction. I think the turn at the end surprised even me a little, how hard it was for us to carefully listen. How the show and our discussion of it transported us into a vaguer exploration of our communication. The presence of phones was felt to the level that it had to be present in the poem. Maybe reality shows about relationships interest us, in part, because we now don’t have that level of concern over appearances. This poem acknowledges allowing yourself comfort, silliness, and the familiarity of years which is wonderful but sometimes feels a little dangerous. I really love the freedom prose allows me, especially when writing first drafts. This piece originated in prose poem, and was revised and lineated as poetry, but returned to prose because the form depicted more energetic movement. I wanted to move the reader through the flash of the show and conversation of people watching it, the same way flashing moments add up and information is missed or misunderstood. I wanted some personal jokes, some disorientation, distraction, obsessive negative thought trying to creep in but ultimately a speaker who’s aware and (mostly) OK with how they’re changing.
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Submissions
Poetry, creative nonfiction, and fiction/prose poetry submissions are now closed. The reading period for standard submissions opens again September 15, 2025. Submit here.
Upcoming
09/15 • Abbie Doll
09/22 • Karen Regen Tuero
09/29 • Amy Speace
10/06 • Jennifer Edwards
10/13 • Joseph O’Day
10/20 • Carolyn Zaikowski
10/27 • Sunmisola Odusola
11/03 • Sara Cassidy
11/10 • Liz Abrams-Morley
11/17 • Alison Colwell
11/24 • Lucy Zhang
12/01 • TBD
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