Raw, but c*nsored blabbing and blogging of a young journalista
and local news producer in Southern New England.
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Saturday, February 19, 2005

Teachers are real people too

TIME Magazine: Parents Behaving Badly: "If you could walk past the teachers' lounge and listen in, what sorts of stories would you hear?"

--"You will never believe what I found when I got to my classroom. Billy was chasing [a girl] around and around the basketball court. Right as I got there he was trying to KISS her."
"What is with that kid?"

--"Billy struck again."
"With the same girl?"
"The same girl."
"What'd he do this time?"
"He was chasing her around and around the observation deck of the Space Needle."

--"You know how we had the kids draw pictures of the characters they created?"
"Yeah."
"The character that Billy drew looks JUST like [a girl in his class]."
"Creepy."

--"How's Billy doing? Since it's your turn to have him and all."
"Honestly, anything creative with this kid is just asking for trouble. I'm surprised he hasn't spawned a lawsuit."
"What happened now?"
"We asked the kids to write novels and make their own books."
"Oh, I can just imagine."
"No you can't. He created a 'me' character who falls in love with a character who looks and sounds like [a girl in his class]..."
"And of course in this fantasy she likes him back."
"Yep, and what's more the 'me' character has to fight a character like [a boy in his class]... who, as written, is just a psychopath."
"Funny."

Okay, that's off topic, but if I talked to my teachers today and some of the other staff who worked at my school when I was a kid, I don't know what I would say to so many of them. Something like... "I'm sorry I was such a screwed-up-in-the-head little hellion?"

I have no idea how much my parents interacted with my teachers, but I think there was a good mix of involvement and hands-off-ishness. And I think, in truth, I liked every single one of my teachers. Nobody was mean. Only when they needed to be. There were only lessons, not harshness. I mean, there's one that stands out -- with one certain little incident -- but it could have been worse. And 20/20 hindsight lets me forgive her.

Okay, now you want to know what the incident was. One time I was looking on this one teacher's desk at something on the top of it, probably something that had to do with grading or something like that.

"HOW DARE you look on my desk!" said (not yelled, and definitely not screamed) the teacher. I dare say she may have been talking to a parent -- or another teacher -- when she noticed this. She told me to go into the computer room (which was right next to her desk) and wait (presumably while she finished her conversation).

I did, and waited in whatever fear you want to think of -- this woman was probably 5'11", but was seven feet tall to me then. She took no nonsense.

The teacher came in and closed the door and simply gave me a talking-to that I think was trying to be very meaningful -- reprimanding with a lesson rather than trying to mentally beat it into me -- the lesson being: please don't snoop into what's on the teacher's desk because it may need to be kept secret.

Even though SHE was the one who left whatever it is on the TOP of the desk. It's not like I was opening her drawers and going through her papers, looking for candy or test answers.

My parents are a different story of course. No harshness there either; to hear them tell it, they weren't harsh enough, and most days I'd have to agree. (Love you Mom and Dad!!!!!!!)

Labels: Originally published

... Scribbled by Bill T ... 2/19/2005 07:59:00 AM ... Email this entry ...
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