At only 24-years-old, Miata Borders walked into her very first assignment as a substitute teacher at DeSoto County Schools in Mississippi with excitement—and by the end of the day, she was packing up her stuff. Borders, who calls herself a content creator and handmade-CEO, filmed a “day in the life” video during her day at Lake Cormorant High School on October 17, 2025. The moment that climaxed her dismissal? A fleeting clip during the school’s pep-rally hallway parade where she pointed her camera at a female student and said, “Damn, shorty, sheesh,” while laughing and later adding, “Man, I gotta get up after these school kids tryna take me down.”
The clip, which has since racked up over 2.2 million views, also captured Borders walking the corridors, standing at the lectern, placing her feet on a student desk, and even mis-stating the time aloud as “12:25 a.m.” (when clearly it wasn’t). She casually recorded students—cheerleaders, band members, classmates—while branding the moment like a content shoot.
District officials say the footage triggered swift action. Employed via staffing agency Kelly Services, Borders had her contract terminated almost immediately once the video made its way to administrators. “District officials informed Kelly Services today that the person is no longer allowed to be a substitute teacher for DeSoto County Schools,” the school system confirmed.
In a follow-up TikTok posted a few days later, Borders defended herself. She claimed she didn’t know recording students was off-limits: “I had absolutely no idea I couldn’t record students, or else I definitely wouldn’t have done it,” she stated. She insisted she is “by far no predator,” that her content-creator identity was known to school administrators, and that most of the footage was filmed when she was alone in the building. Still, she admitted the fallout had been crushing: “I literally lost it all over one mistake,” she said.
Social-media commenters didn’t hold back. Many slammed her for what they called a “blatant invasion of privacy” and “unprofessional conduct.” One commenter wrote: “It was all inappropriate and unprofessional.” Another: “I wouldn’t even trust you to watch a picture of my kids.” The backlash has not only put Borders under the harsh glare of the internet, but it has also raised broader discussions about social-media culture, teacher professionalism and student privacy in schools.
While this incident has dominated conversation, it also arrives amid a rough patch for DeSoto County Schools—already reeling from controversies involving staff misconduct and governance issues. The district’s decision to cut ties with Borders signals a zero-tolerance approach in this case, though in the court of public opinion the story remains a cautionary tale for educators with public-facing online brands.
For Borders, the lesson is sharp and expensive: filming in a school zone with an audience, even if intended as a light-hearted “day in the life,” brought consequences she didn’t anticipate. In a modern era where content creation and classroom roles intersect awkwardly, this moment stands out as a blunt reminder that the camera’s roll can sometimes cost more than clout.
