Dear Mr. I'll drive my hummer through your loop holes,

You've been the Goven-a-tor of Calie-fornie-a since 2003. You ran on the promise to "invest in high-quality teachers" and "build more schools." Actually you specifically said, "We need to stop hiring people to work in the central office and start investing in the men and women who work with our children." I have but one question for you to answer:

Do you think you are investing in men and women who work with "our" children when you lay of school counselors like my mom?

For over 20 years my mom has worked for one school, sacrificing her time, her efforts, her energy, and most importantly her heart. She has spent countless hours working with 'high-risk' students — fifth grade girls who are being molested by their step-dad, third grade boys who have cigarettes put out on their tiny arms, first graders who are homeless and fall asleep at night behind the Safeway.

The one person who believes in the children, encourages them, listens to them, and fights for them hasn't been you, Mr. Goven-a-tor. You've been busy driving around in your hummer, giving lame speeches, making terminator jokes, and failing to complete the task you some how were elected to do.

You spoke today about how great it is you finally passed a budget. "The perfect medicine for our ailing economy," you say. You tout your accomplishment as if finding a half-ass solution to a $42 billion dollar short fall is something to be proud off. A budget that cuts education spending, that has led to 20,000 people being laid off, 20,000 hard working Americans like my mom who make more of a difference in this world then you ever will.

I could use a variety of harsh words to describe my feelings toward the situation, trust me the thoughts have passed through my mind. And yet none of them mean a thing to me. What matters most is not your fuck-ups, but more so the effects of your mistakes. It the fact that my mom called crying today because she's getting laid off. My mom who is more qualified, more talented, has worked harder, longer, and given more of herself, my mom who has spent 20 + years working in education, who is qualified with her Master's degree, who is 60 years old, who is raising her grandson (my nephew), and yet she won't find peace tonight. She is the one who will be lying awake, starring at the ceiling, trying to find a place to put all the fear she now carries.

And you Arnold, with your $42 billion dollar fuck-up, will sleep soundly in your expensive sheets, in your silk pajama, with fresh cut flowers by your bed.

Until Monday...