If you were a first-grade teacher—keeper of small fry, warden of budding self-esteem, encourager of embryonic social and moral development—and you noticed that a tiny girl (whose hands could barely fill your palms and whose huge, brown eyes looked way up to you for protection from evil) sobbed hysterically every single day at exactly the same fucking time, wouldn’t you ask her what was wrong? Wouldn’t you call her parents? Wouldn’t you consider consoling her? What would you do? What would YOU do?
Well. If you were my first grade teacher, here’s what: You would snatch me up by the shoulder and drag my snuffling, five-year-old ass out into the hall where you would hiss at me to stand there with my nose against the pebbly wall that smelled just like old Play Doh ® and hope that the principal didn’t walk by because if he did, then I would get a paddling. And then, every day right after lunch and right before math class, I would bury my tear-puffy face in my little black patent leather purse as I waited for Mrs. B. to let me back in the room. I thought, as most young children do, that if I closed my eyes and couldn’t see anyone, then they couldn’t see me. I believed that I made myself invisible, and that’s why I never got that dreaded spanking. And I realized that I had to stop the crying if I wanted to go to my beloved reading class, which followed math and which required the whole class to move to different seats.
So. I bucked up. I didn’t utter a whimper after lunch ever again. And I just allowed the twisted son-of-a-bitch who sat next to me in math to put his hand down my panties and simultaneously grab my hand and force it to fondle his dick. Every day. Like a good girl.
Thanks, Mrs. B., for teaching me that when a five-year-old girl is sexually assaulted, even by a peer, that she is the one who deserves to be punished, and that crying is not an appropriate response. That was one powerful lesson, you clueless fuck. And all I was really expecting to learn from you was how to read.
You provide one horrific story here, Bloggurl!
ReplyDeleteAnd, unfortunately, anecdotes like yours remind us why teachers remain the most overworked and underpaid professionals in our country; because this sort of inexcusable behavior is never really addressed. Like under-achieving students, these "teachers" (using the term painfully loosely) are simply "passed on" to the next term (with little more than “lip-service” being paid to “standards” and “evaluation,” enforce by administrators often not really qualified to assess “teaching performance” anyway). And the consequence is the "dime-a-dozen" image that reflects our nation's blithe dismissal of the injustice of the “value-to-performance” ratio defining the world of public education. That someone can "run" a company (often from the golf course) or work on a county road crew or sell cars (or shoot a round ball through a round hoop, fergodsakes!) and "pull down" a comfortable six- or seven-figure salary, while "the system" rewards those entrusted with the future (i.e., the “young minds” who will populate it), is just plain WRONG!
Of course, the knee-jerk reaction we’ve all heard uttered by citizens, when confronted with this unfairness, is, "Well, Hell, those people only work 3/4 of the year!" But that's unfair, you see. Indeed, these toilers in the vineyard of our community's future MERIT that two-month vacation in the summer, and a collective month for the Holidays and spring break; because when school is open, they're working (at least) 12–14 hour days (8 in the classroom, another minimum 4 to 6 preparing for that challenge), five days a week. Can anyone out there honestly say that he or she did NOT encounter that one “special teacher” in his or her school life who “made all the difference”? I don’t think so. Well, cynics who have never TRIED teaching simply can't IMAGINE how demanding the endeavor is. Or they suspect it, which may be why they opt for much more lucrative and less taxing vocations. Like garbage collection or advertising sales.
And therein lies the rub, folks: so many potential motivators and guides are lured away from teaching by the promise of financial gain, and the "teacher" roles have to be filled by SOMEONE; the result is that people like "Mrs. B." (who had no more business occupying that vital position in your life, Bloggurl, than I would being a brain surgeon), are hired to fill it.
Shame on our society for allowing this travesty to persist. The phrase "you get what you pay for" resounds with thundering volume here. Doesn’t it?
Hess