
Bryan Buffkin
Bio
Bryan Buffkin is a high school English teacher, a football and wrestling coach, and an aspiring author from the beautiful state of South Carolina. His writing focuses on humorous observational musings and inspirational fiction.
Stories (53)
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Duct-Taping the Future of Tomorrow
It’s my second block class, around 10:30 in the morning. The fluorescent overhead lights are off, and the room is otherwise illuminated by the bright sunlight from the windows, the soft lamps surrounding the room, and the colorful Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling. I sit on my stool in front of my 28 general education students. They’re white, black, brown. They’ve all been best friends since kindergarten. We take turns going over the daily writing, where they write about themselves and then we share our stories. The students laugh, smile. They know that we’ll be doing grammar next, so they all tell stories hoping to ward off the inevitable. When everyone has shared and we’ve all finished laughing, we review the sentence corrections, the sentence combining. I give them a little mini-lesson on some aspect of grammar that has eluded them so far. We talk about how weird the English language is, and then we pull out our textbooks or packets or novels or whatever it is we’re reading. We have pencils and highlighters loaded and ready to go. I scoot my stool to the center of the room, and then the reading begins.
By Bryan Buffkin14 days ago in Humans
School in the Time of Quarantine
I’ve been an English teacher in the state of South Carolina for the last seventeen years. For the most part, it's been a joy and a pleasure. We’re all aware of the stigma that southern schools have and some of the difficulties we face with the wide variety of ranges between student types, races, religions, socioeconomic statuses, and the like. But as an English teacher and a coach, I’ve had the privilege of experiencing the wide variety of students that each part of the state offers. I’ve taught at giant metropolitan schools in the city. I’ve taught at rough, urban schools, where kids get to school through back alleyways to avoid gangs huddled on street corners. I’ve taught at rural schools where students come to class in the morning having woken up at dawn to feed the chickens. I’ve taught at tiny schools in the middle of nowhere that were 97% African-American. I’ve taught at tiny country schools that were 97% Caucasian. I’ve taught the gamut of students that the great state of South Carolina has to offer, and undoubtedly, I’ve enjoyed it. There have been struggles, but I love the teenagers I teach, I love the teachers and administration I work with, and despite all the horror stories you hear in the media, I enjoy being a teacher.
By Bryan Buffkinabout a year ago in Photography
More Important Than the Game
Late August, first football game of the regular season. We’re at Carvers Bay, a district rival and a team out for blood. It was my first year as an offensive coordinator here at this lovely school, and this game had a lot of emotional weight on it. My kids were ready, pumped, and the last thing I could show was any sign of doubt. As the opposing coaches stared daggers through us, I looked up and down my sideline at my players’ faces, all lined up, arms locked together, watching the captains slowly march to midfield for the coin toss.
By Bryan Buffkinabout a year ago in Motivation
Big Game Tonight. Top Story - September 2024.
I couldn’t sleep last night. Haven’t slept well in a minute, to be honest. At three in the morning, I opted to give up staring at the cracks in the ceiling to instead stare at my laptop screen and the mounds of opened and unopened white envelopes spread like dying angels’ wings across my kitchen table. I can hear my husband sleeping like a fat baby in the other room, the sounds of his snoring reverberating through the thin apartment walls. I imagine little waves in my black coffee rippling through every guttural breath that comes out of him, and I form the outline of what should have been a smirk on the corner of my lips.
By Bryan Buffkinabout a year ago in Fiction
Stupid Darren
Stupid Darren. Dude will never find me. It’s dark, cold, and I’m covered in Cheetos dust down here. Geez, brother. You just HAD to take me off while you were playing video games and eating snacks. On the couch. Onto a coffee table that you smack every single time some nine-year-old in Taiwan no-scopes you from clear across the map, you swearing through gritted teeth so you don’t wake up your napping wife and 7-month old in the next room. I can hear you now, frantically looking everywhere, your hand searching through seat cushions covered in your loose hair, sweat, and food stains trying to find me. You better hope you do before she wakes up and…
By Bryan Buffkin2 years ago in Fiction













