Back in the spring of 1998, I was student teaching in Berlin, Connecticut.
On my first day, I asked my first-grade line leader to stop at the bubbler.
She continued walking down the hallway, slowing down with every step. By the time I caught up with her, she was in tears.
The first time I made a student cry.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Why didn’t you stop at the bubbler?”
“I don’t know what a bubbler is?” she wailed.
In Massachusetts, where I grew up, it’s a bubbler. According to the map below, it’s a bubbler in Wisconsin, too.
In Connecticut, it’s a water fountain.
