Reproach
I remember that word now. I always associated it with school so I must have blocked it out. I was reproached about 17 times a week regularly, and then reproached again later when they would point out all the reproachments as they were reproaching me for something else, just so I wouldn't forget.
Not that I didn't deserve it, I did usually. I was always planning something to do, we all were. It was a really fun class and we are all very bad kids. This one time our bible teacher who used to be our janitor was telling us about something in Acts, and when he would turn around to the board, we would all stand up, and then when he turned back around to us we'd all sit down. Just stupid things like that.
He was so mild in his manner that even when he was mad he never raised his voice and it was like there was apology behind it. He would implore us to behave with his eyes closed, but not really closed because his eyelids flipped up and down (even during prayer so no one ever bowed their head, but all watched in curiosity at his jittering eyelids). So anyhow, with his eyelids bouncing, he'd go in this low, toneless dispassionate voice, "Now. Kids. I know what you're doing. And there will be trouble if it continues." Then, he'd go back to teaching, and we'd stand up and sit down just like before.
There was a time I felt really bad about something I did though. I made him cry. I was in his class and there was something going that they were all doing to torment him, but he picked me out of the group to discipline. It wasn't right this time, even though there were plenty of times that were. But I had just been sitting there, and kind of laughing. He sent me out of the room and he came out after me, and even though I appealed to him that I wasn't responsible, he sent me to the principal's office. I don't even remember what it was for, but I do remember that the punishment was to get whacked on my ass. They didn't allow men to spank girls, so they elected one of the women teachers to apply the board. She let me have it a few times, and I was crying but not because it hurt, but frustrated tears because I hadn't done anything and was getting the blame. I loathed him for making me the example. I walked out of the room and he was there down the hallway and I wanted to throw back my shoulders and just walk past him like it didn't matter, but I saw he had his face in his hands, and when I got closer I saw he was bawling his eyes out. Then, I experienced something that surprised me: I felt sorrowful. And I slipped past him and walked slowly back to the class. Everyone was really quiet when I came in, and I tried to act like I didn't care. But, I was a lot easier on him after that.
He went back to being the janitor the next year which was probably a good thing because he seemed much happier.
posted by SPOA | 5:10 PM
6 Comments:
It can be hard to keep sane all the time when you care deeply.
He went into into the ministry and became a teacher to small children. He was wonderful with them. Later, I developed sort of a crush on him and wished I could ...well, you know, do things to make him feel better.
Frank McCourt said in an interview that some teenagers when they turn 13 should be sent to the Australian outback and given one meal and then they can eat Kangaroo, never to be heard from until they reach 19
That's very sad. Poor guy.
We used to do the same thing, one teacher in particular had no absolutely no control over us as we called him "pilchard", like the fish, because he was fishily unattractive.
Then another time, and I think this one is just *funny*, concerned a physics teacher called Mr Baker. His nickname was...well you can guess. So one time, I shouted out for his attention with some kind of physics problem MASTER BAKER! ('mast' rhyming with 'crass', in the Northern England pronunciation), and he went ABSOLUTELY MAD with anger :-)
He must have felt better later on, working with younger kids. That comment of mine wasn't supposed to be anonymous at all, btw. One day I'll figure out how this stuff works.
lol scoob!
I had a teacher in high school when I went to public school, and he had 'anger management issues' and went after his daughter's brand new puppy with an ax and chopped it into pieces. He came back to school a few weeks later and said he was told to lay off the coca-cola.
(Insert shocked smiley here)
:-P
Yes that's true...alongside the sad 'uns, the ones that needed a hug and a cup of tea (don't know about the ideas you had, if he wanted to keep his job!), were the semi-psycho ones who shouted and bullied. We had those too.
We also had one who used a punishment he called the "slipper" - except it wasn't a slipper, it was a freakin big gym shoe - and he THWACKED it down as hard as he could onto your open palms.
And on that nostalgic note, I must refer you to the comic authority of Monty Python:
But you try and tell the young people today that... and they won't believe you
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