I'm in the Dog House Now

I am in trouble. Seems I left out somebody important from my faculty
in the Department of Beclakian Education. Shame on me. It was only
my bestest friend who is an actual teacher in the very same building
where I spend my working life for 174 contracted days. Leave it to
me to ignore the obvious. Why would I consider putting an actual
teacher on my Department of Education? Duh! I know I selected
Deadpanann, but I found her back in the day, when she was just a
basement blogger, not a teacher yet. I didn't consider the real live
co-worker kept in captivity in my actual school building.

I didn't know she would feel left out. Honest. She doesn't have a blog.
But she is my faithfulest reader. (I do know how to spell, but I like to
create my own words.) So I am sorry, bestest buddy. I will call you
"Mabel." We both know who that really is, and I am not saying you
are a Mabel, mind you, but that is a name I associate with you. So I
am adding Mabel to my faculty, and she is going to teach the following:

• Hot to Trot: a model for anger management
• Bring Me a Hall Pass (Or Ya Gotta Sing to My Class)
• March 14: Three hundred fourteen ideas for Pi Day
• Scaling the Slippery Slope: you must rise before you can run
• The Day I Met Wernher von Braun
• I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream for Unit Multipliers

Sorry to give you so many preps, Mabes, but you know you've
done it before. And you'd better show up at 7:20 am for tutoring,
too, or you're gonna lose a good thing. Do you think Sonic Diet
Cherry Cokes grow on trees in Beclakia? Think again. You must
earn your keep.

So here's to you, Mabel, for fighting the good fight. For writing up
those lovebirds who dare to kiss at your end of the hallway. For
giving me my favorite all-time gift: scratch-off lottery tickets. For
giving me a rubber doorstop that lasted two years before somebody
stole it even though it had my name written on the side in Wite-Out.
For tracking down your VCR cable (and we both know who took
it). For making me laugh with comments such as "And there he was
on my stepping stones, wearing his fancy women's shoes!" For
slicing those odd-numbered answers out of the back of the textbook.
For setting your expectations high, and not taking any guff from the
enablers of those not-working-to-potential students. My hat is off
to you. My pointy-headed sweat-stained hillbilly straw hat. Now
you gotta look at my unstylish hair. Be careful what you wish for.

Can anybody guess the actual subject that Mabel teaches? Anybody?
Be specific. Put on your thinking caps. You can have hat-hair, too.