Freshman (Part 4, Those Who Can, Teach. Those Who Can’t Teach, Suck.): That guy over there … he does it for the chicks.

When I was a kid we had a few teachers in my high school that (it was rumored) liked to have “personal” relationships with some of the more “advanced” female students. There were stories—some quite descriptive—but, as far as I was concerned, that’s was all they were. Insinuation, innuendo, etcetera; sure, some of the stories were true, but those were (presumably) few and far between so, mostly, we chalked the talk up to urban legend.

When I started teaching, however, I came to find that many of those stories were not all that hard to believe. In fact, there appeared to be more truth to the whole idea than I would have otherwise anticipated. In my first few months, for instance, I’d met several teachers that were either married to or divorced from former students (or former teachers) and the age differences for some were significant. Some began relationships while in school, others only shortly thereafter. It was strangely amusing; though, truth told, with some teachers it was far more strange than amusing.

In the end, this phenomenon, as I had come to view it, struck me as almost passé; certainly not the kind of thing students today would engage in. Of course, it wasn’t long before my assumptions were proved wrong when, in the middle of a graduation ceremony, a colleague decided to give me the back-story on one indiscriminant fool during a lull in the processional.

As the students walked up to receive their diplomas—in between the raucous “whoop-whoops” and ridiculous dances—it had become my habit to people watch; graduation ceremonies being something of cross between a traveling tent revival and a circus side show, I always found myself enthralled by the weirdness.

While I was taking in the sights I made note of a teacher who was quite obviously checking out all the girls as they walked across the stage. I leaned over and mentioned this observation to a friend sitting next to me who, rather abruptly, said:

“He’s probably making a list.”

“What?” I asked, more concerned than confused.

“Oh,” he said, “you haven’t heard about him? Yeah, he’s definitely in it for the chicks.” And then he laughed.

“What are you talking about?” I could feel the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.

“He’s been known to go after former female students. It’s funny, really. I mean, it’s sad … sick, maybe … but it’s still funny.” He paused, clearly gathering his thoughts. “Or at least, one story in particular is pretty damn hilarious.”

“So he’s dated former students … apparently right after graduation … and nobody has problem with that?” My confusion about this being common knowledge and yet not unacceptable, was obvious.

“I don’t know if anybody’s got a problem with it,” he said, “but he’s definitely gone after former students; but I don’t know if I’d call it ‘dating’ so much as I’d call it ‘having sex with.’ You know what I’m saying?”

“That’s a little messed up, don’t you think?”

“I’ll tell you what’s really messed up: the fact that, even though he can’t seem to keep his dick in his pants, apparently he still hasn’t figured out how to use it.”

And then he laughed.

“What?” I knew the minute that word left my lips I would regret it. But it was gone and I couldn’t get it back. I was asking for a story, and he was happy to oblige.

“Well, the story that I heard—and believe it or not, I heard it from him—is that he was out at a club one night shortly after school ended, like a year or so ago, where he ‘coincidentally’ ran into a group of girls that had just graduated. (We all knew it was no coincidence, but whatever; if it makes him feel better…) Anyway, they were dancing, I guess, and drinking for sure, and he gets this girl back to his house. She’s telling him some bullshit about how she’s been ‘dreaming of this moment for so long’ and all that teenage garbage, and this little fucker over here blows his load ten seconds into the first inning. Ha ha … what a tool. And then, if that’s not humiliating enough, the girl tells him off for sucking so bad in bed. She actually tells him that he’s ruined one of her ‘most precious fantasies’ or some shit like that. And then—because of course, there’s more—she tells all of her friends what a lousy lay he is. And some of them still have him for class. Can you believe it? And he’s actually telling people about it because he thinks he’s going to get points for having slept with some 18 year old. I’ll tell you what, Riedel, every day I am a little more depressed by the reality of human stupidity; and the fact that we work with so many stupid humans. Still,” he said, chuckling, “I think it’s funny.”

I was speechless. I didn’t know what to say. I mean, I don’t know if there are words for stories like that. So instead I just put my hand over my forehead and tried desperately not to get caught laughing. Sure, some of it was the storyteller, but most of it was the story. I was laughing so hard I broke out into a sweat; tears rolled down my cheeks and my face was a terrible shade of dark red. And the entire time I was staring at the teacher in question, without any concern for the fact that he probably saw me. Because, for as far as I was concerned, that was poetic justice. That was what he deserved—though perhaps not exactly—for being an arrogant, pompous, selfish, unethical, scheming, dirty little bastard. He deserved to be laughed at almost as much as he deserved to be fired.

After the laughter subsided, I began to wonder just how much of this really went on. I mean, this guy was calculating. He waited until graduation; he waited until he knew they were of age. He knew where to find them and he knew they’d been waiting. In my book, that’s predatory.

The more I thought about it, the more I felt betrayed. After all, it’s people like these that destroy the teaching environment for the rest of us. Sure, there is more to it than just that, but most times the only press teachers get is the bad press. And bad press damages everyone, not just the moron that generates it. After all, that guy’s just going to get fired, and then take a job in the private sector—likely getting paid twice as much—and leave all of the good teachers holding the bag. And why? Because he’s selfish; and that’s it. And of all the things we should be teaching our children, how to be selfish is most certainly not one of them. They get enough of that from their parents … and from television … and the movies … and every other place. Instead we should be teaching them respect and responsibility and forethought and critical thinking and, god forbid, ethical behavior. Imagine that: ethics in school. How novel.

Freshman (Part 4, Those Who Can, Teach. Those Who Can’t Teach, Suck.): That guy over there ... he does it for the chicks., 10.0 out of 10 based on 1 rating