Otherworld Kindergarten Makes 'Meme Funeral Etiquette' Mandatory for 3-Year-Olds: Failed Jokes Get Their Final Buzz in the Schoolyard

At Buzz Nursery School in another world, flopped memes are sent directly to the 'Meme Funeral Hall' in the schoolyard. Three-year-olds wear black name tags and recite 'Our condolences, it didn't go viral,' mastering crisis management before they even learn their ABCs.

Otherworld Kindergarten Makes 'Meme Funeral Etiquette' Mandatory for 3-Year-Olds: Failed Jokes Get Their Final Buzz in the Schoolyard

At Buzz Nursery School in another world, flopped memes are sent directly to the “Meme Funeral Hall” in the schoolyard. Three-year-olds wear black name tags and recite “Our condolences, it didn’t go viral,” mastering crisis management before they even learn their ABCs.

The new subject the school introduced this month is “Meme Funeral Etiquette.” It targets all children in the three-year-old class, with an ambitious three hours per week allocated to the curriculum. A permanent white tent serving as the Meme Funeral Hall stands in a corner of the schoolyard, with a stone monument at the entrance inscribed “Failed to Trend.” When a joke or dance video performed by a child receives a certain number of “not funny” votes in a class survey, that meme is promptly mourned here.

In class, children first don black name tags in place of mourning clothes and line up before a flip chart representing the “meme remains.” A representative child stands on a small platform and reads aloud, “Thank you for attending this funeral for a meme with no growth potential despite your busy schedules,” followed by a group bow. Next, they recite set phrases anticipating online backlash: “There was humor that caused misunderstanding” and “We sincerely apologize and lay this meme to rest.” The sight of three-year-olds who can barely write their own names fluently reciting these familiar phrases draws not tears but wry smiles from parents.

According to Buzz Nursery School, this subject is “part of social media education” aimed at “learning the basics of crisis management through play.” The altar in the funeral hall features an incense burner shaped like a “like” button and a counter visualizing declining numbers, quietly displaying zero each time a meme is eulogized. The principal states, “We want children to be able to apologize no matter what platform they reincarnate into in the future. You can learn the alphabet anytime in life, but online firestorms won’t wait.”

Behind this lies the increasingly serious “buzz fatigue” spreading throughout the otherworld. Many parents are constantly juggling work, childcare, and sharing requests, and have been pleading at orientation sessions, “At least let our children grow up to be people who won’t get canceled.” In response, the school has developed a curriculum to master 48 types of apology templates and three formats for voluntary post deletion by graduation. As a result, many graduates can say “There were some inappropriate expressions” in one breath before they can even write.

However, concerns persist about education that obsessively mourns memes. A researcher from the Department of Child Studies at Neighboring World University points out, “Failed jokes have the right to be quietly forgotten. If you force meme funerals on three-year-olds, the only concept that gets ingrained is ‘humor is recorded, evaluated, and laid to rest.’” Furthermore, they added a jab at adult society: “After all, it’s adults who leave firestorms unaddressed without apologizing, and this structure shifts that debt onto toddlers.”

As for the children themselves, they offer candid opinions that shake the very foundation of the system: “I like it because you get an extra snack when a meme dies” and “The black name tag looks cool.” At the end of class, there’s a moment of silence to reflect on the memes mourned that day and pledge “never to resurrect this joke again,” but reportedly, the same jokes are performed again with slight modifications on the playground after school. Even when humor is buried, children’s curiosity doesn’t return to the earth so easily.

It remains unknown how effective making Meme Funeral Etiquette mandatory will be as a countermeasure against online firestorms. However, one thing is certain: the children are still reading “It didn’t go viral” in small voices today, occasionally unable to contain their laughter. Ahead of the adults who fall silent before raging comment sections, three-year-olds in this otherworld are steadily learning how to end a joke.

Stakeholder Comments

  • Buzz Nursery School Principal Trend Buzzkawa: “I want to raise children who can apologize. Adults are already beyond saving, so we have no choice but to start over with the younger generation.”
  • Sora, three-year-old representative: “You get one biscuit when a meme dies. That’s why I want to flop a lot.”
  • The Meme Funeral Hall altar: “I’d prefer to be mourned quietly, but I must say ten cases per day is excessive workload.”
  • PTA President Mama Influencer: “I believe if crisis management is perfect, academics can be figured out later. That’s the reality of this world.”
  • Otherworld Education Ministry Social Media Division Official: “This guideline is merely a ‘recommendation,’ which is effectively mandatory.”
  • Principal Shirafu Hara of the neighboring Serious Kindergarten: “We still have sandboxes and drawing, but we’re fully aware we’re behind the times.”
  • The personification of online firestorms themselves: “When children are this wary of me, I actually feel unapproachable. I wish they’d burn a little more casually.”
  • A father struggling with buzz fatigue: “The day my kid starts writing apology statements, I’ll seriously consider logging out.”
  • Social media education expert: “We should be teaching the ability to think before posting, but starting with post-publication prostration is the otherworld’s version of rationalization.”
  • The black name tag: “I was originally for security purposes, but somehow got promoted to mourning badge status. That’s a career advancement.”

International Expressions

Haiku

  • Buzz fades away / In the schoolyard echoes / Sounds of prayer
  • Meme grave / Little earth from / Three-year-olds
  • Joke that won’t grow / Even on black name tag / The number zero
  • Before the flames / Teaching funeral rites / To children
  • Before likes / Learning apologies / Spring schoolyard
  • Flopped gag / Mourned again / In twilight
  • Buzz fatigue / Child bows in place / Of parent
  • Meme buried / Laughter sprouts again / Reincarnation
  • To funeral hall / Lines forming / Kids and jokes
  • Otherworld’s / Children chanting / Crisis management

Kanji / Chinese Characters

異世界保育園滑笑話葬送3歳児黒名札着用哀悼詞朗読炎上処理先習得

Emoji

🏫🧒🧒🧒🖤📛🪦📱0️⃣👍❌🙇‍♂️🙇‍♀️🔥

Onomatopoeia

Silence… murmur murmur, ding, clap clap, whisper whisper, click, gloom, giggle giggle.

SNS

  • The system where you get extra snacks when a meme dies is too OP
  • I feel defeated by otherworld kids who memorize apology templates at age three
  • I wish my company had a Meme Funeral Hall too, want to bury all the meeting flops
  • Buzz Nursery School’s admission requirement being “parents resistant to firestorms” lol
  • Meme Funeral Etiquette certification beginner textbook please
  • A world that values proper prostration form over likes, wondering if we should follow suit
  • Today my five-year-old buried my joke saying “That has no growth potential”
  • Meme cemetery tours becoming Instagram-worthy spots is putting the cart before the horse
  • I want real-world adults to first mourn their own tweets saying “Our condolences, it didn’t go viral”
  • When social media education goes this far, it’s basically a philosophy class