If this was my kid, a simple - "well, that's life" would have to suffice from me. One of the biggest problems in today's society (according to me) is parents defending their kids for all sorts of things. I hear from current teachers all the time that parents call in and complain if the teacher even corrects their child. If I came home and had to tell somebody I got crap at school that day...I got more crap....not a sympathetic parent looking for an excuse..any excuse..to call the teacher and ask why their little baby came home sad. It's a tough world out there. I think, and Still A. Dad or Still A. Sis can confirm this - that my pops called the school one time to stick up for my Sis. It's funny because I just told my daughter this story. She asks me all the time if I got in trouble in school and then wants to know "why" and "how much"? I'm not going to lie to her. I was a smart-ass in school. She can already tell you the 5 or 6 worse things I did. I don't want her to think she has to live up to some standard. The first time she got on Yellow in school was last year in first grade (they use a green, yellow, red light system). She was on yellow once the entire year and it is a daily occurrence for some kids. She was so upset she cried when telling me! She punished herself. She thought I was going to be mad! I told her that that old bat Ms. Rugg stuck me and my big mouth in the corner 30 times when I was in first grade! Easy. I didn't get detention until 4th grade and that was from tripping a girl right in front of Mrs. Dorito and Ms. Woolslegle. She fell so hard she cried....and we were "in love". I told her about the time I had to write for Mr. Bloom for trying to one-up him in Geography class and for the time in Mr. Metal's class when my cohorts and myself declared ourselves as "Here" by saying "Past", "Present" and "Future" (I was "Present"). I told her that when I was a Junior in high school, about 110 students made National Honor Society. I graduated 46th in a class of 600 but somehow failed to make Honor Society. Why? Are you not paying attention? I was a smart ass. I think I had some teachers in a cold sweat hoping they wouldn't say something that would draw my wit. If I could make the class laugh, I would weigh that agsint my probable punishment (if any) and roll the dice. I would rather make the entire class laugh than sit there and be bored stiff. It made my day more exciting. I don't think any teacher actually disliked me...well, ok, one or two did....they just knew I was not performing as well as I could. If I could get a 'B' without studying...I'd take it. If the class didn't interest me, I would do just enough to get my 'B'. The classes that everyone had to take like Geography, Sociology, Civics....they went over things 4 times and you couldn't help but get an 'A' if you could memorize things after hearing them 2-3 times. Those are the classes when the real clown came out. I heard from a good source that I didn't lose the Class Clown vote by much but I did deserve to lose as the winner was a master and a partner in crime. I'm not proud of that or sorry about it either. It is what it is and I buckled down in college. My partner in crime, did not.
I didn't tell my daughter yet that I had the police show up at the door before I graduated - but I will before she hits Jr. High. Back to the main point - one day my sister took something to the office for actually a favorite teacher of mine who shall remain nameless due to the fact that not that many people share his unusual name.... While away the class was rowdy and was instructed to write as punishment. When she returned and class was dismissed she was instructed to write as well which seemed unfair to her. I think he said the class acted up the entire class and that was that. I think Still A Dad placed a call and was told the same thing (I could be wrong). Once he got the answer he did what he had to....told her to just do it. Damn! Maybe he should have sued for something. Embarrassment for my sister since she was usually the one to never get in trouble. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if that was the worse thing she had to do while in school. So, when I came to Still A Dad with....."but, dad, all I said was 'Present'....some kids say 'Present' every day, I shouldn't have to write...." he just gave me the "am I that stupid?" look and I went away and found somebody to write "Past, Present, Future" for me 1000 times for $5. Damn, I miss school. Oh yeah, quit babying your kids! Life isn't fair. The sooner they learn that, the better off they will be. If I had that brat in one of my classes and she sued the school...I'd be itching to give her anything BUT an "A" on my next subjective grading project. Who in the Hell cares if she finishes with a 4.5 or a 4.48? That is sooooooooo unimportant in the grand scheme of things. I think if my daughter was closing in on the school's #1 student position - I'd sabotage her effort! Nah, but I would tell her I couldn't give a rat's ass if she finished #1 or #46 and mean it. I know quite a few people who did REALLY REALLY well in school and haven't done a damn thing with their lives. Besides that, it wouldn't surprise me for second if #100 has more "real" friends and is much more well-rounded than #1.
9 comments:
Tell your daughter to wait until Uncle Stilladog comes up for the barbeque. I can tell her what it's like when a "smartass" was in school when captial punsihment was socially acceptable.
I got my ass beat so many times by teachers I lost count. I had very little respect for many of them right off the bat... subpar humans that too many were.
In 3rd grade I got hit in the middle of my back so hard my head flew into the blackboard. My crime? Daydreaming thru the arithmetic lesson.
In 5th grade I got so many cracks with Mr. Jefferson's "Green Monster" (paddle the size of a baseball bat) I thought my ass was going to have a dozen cracks of it's own. Fortunately, only the one God gave me remains today.
If a grown man (and Mr. Jefferson was a big man, 6-1 200lbs) hit an 11 year old kid like that (two handed like a baseball batter) nowadays it'd be on every cable news channel imaginable.
In Jr. High I got hit by a guy, Mr Welsh, so hard welts raised on my butt cheeks. He thought it was great sport to paddle kids ass. I think I was talking in study hall to deserve that assault. But hey, I was a hellraiser. I didn't look for no sympathy.
Fortunately by the early 70s that kind of punishment was no longer tolerated so in High School I only had to endure detention for smacking a kid in the face with two full milk cartons cause he was shooting peas at me through a straw while I ate my lunch. Ought to be glad I didn't kill the SOB on the spot. But he's dead now anyway.
I did attack another kid with a fork who was messing with me while I ate but I got away with that one.
Last year I went to my cousin's 10 year old son's soccer practice. These kids whined and cried about running the lines. I felt like giving them tampons to dry their wet little noses. If I had done that at Little League practice the coach would have sent my ass home pronto, end of baseball. A bunch of babies we are raising.
Bottom line here is, the example you site is just another case of the pussification of America. We are becoming a nation of pansies. My mother was right, my generation has F'd things up beyond belief. I'm glad I'm on my way out.
I hope I run out of air and money on the same day and it is some time before nuclear holocaust hits the USA.
Are you saying that I'm not well-rounded and I don't have any "real" friends?!?!?! Just kidding...I wasn't number 1 in my class (but close)!
Okay - lots to address here:
I honestly don't remember the incident that you're referring to here about me. Guess it didn't tarnish me too much. Can you give me a guess on the teacher's last name? Did it start with an H?
Here are a few I do remember...When I was in 3rd grade (Mrs. Postelwaithe), we were doing a craft and the whole class was noisy. I got a severe case of the hiccups. I left the room to go to the fountain for a drink, was gone for maybe a minute and when I got back to the classroom door, I stuck my head in announced that someone should scare me when I walked in. Of course, they were no longer doing the craft project and I got stuck in the corner for disrupting the class. I was so upset that day, but in hindsight I did learn something from it.
Didn't Mr. Bloom teach World History? I had Gmitter for Geography. I'm surprised Bloom had enough guts to punish anyone. Although I do remember seeing him run down the steps into the little basement area where his class was at Jr Hi West to launch him into a full-swing padding once.
And ahhh, Mr. Metil. I had to write something for him once too. He had asked us to look something up one day and no one knew the answer the next day, so we all had the write the definition for whatever it was a few hundred times.
The only one I might remember Dad being involved with was this teacher, Mr. H, who once commented that the mail lady (one of dad's co-workers, E) dragging the mail in the door that day looked like a bag lady. Well, someone told E (wasn't me or dad!!!), and she got mad and called the school to complain about Mr. H. I didn't want him to think it was me who told her! Dad, do you remember ever calling the school to defend me???
As for the GPA/class rank thing, all I can say is that one of my best friends is a guidance counselor and YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE the stories about what some kids and parents complain about to raise their ranking. If this girl in this story was such a good student, she would have turned it in early or had one of her parents make sure that it got turned in on time. Deadlines are deadlines (yes, I'm a writer by trade now).
You expect your kids to do their best, but if another kid's best is even better, you're right...THAT'S LIFE. Deal with it.
his name sounds like "kubula khan" mashed up with "mechanic". there. let google find that when he searches on his own name!
i'm almost positive this happened.
my definition of real friend might be very different than yours. some people have 100 acquaintences and not a single real friend.
real friend's will tell you you're wrong.
real friend's call to talk to you for no other reason than to talk.
you can tell a real friend something you might not even tell your spouse or something ABOUT your spouse.
here is my big test: you don't clean your house before a real friend comes over, even if you know a week before they are coming....and you could care less.
you can also correct your real friend's kids...in front of their parents.
you and your spouse can bicker in front of real friends.
you act no different around a real friend than who/what you really are.
real friends are not chuck from accounting that you eat lunch with twice a quarter.
i collect acquaintences like some people collect stamps...but i must say, my wife and i both have many people that fit all of the above criteria.
you know what they say....DOG is man's best friend ;)
i once read in a book to make an acquaintence tree to see whose branch you stole. you write down each and every person you know or might consider more than just a casual acquaintence. cross off relatives. cross off past & present coworkers. now write down the name of the person that is responsible for you knowing each of the people on your list. most people steal other people's friends. the one person who got you all of your friends is the person with a lot of good friends.
bloom was 8th grade geography and gmitter was 9th. at least i think. i know it was geog because i was pointing things out on a map and every time i went to sit down he would say "...and now point to the international date line". i got so fed up after 3 times that i said "there, can i sit down now?" as smartass as i could. the reply? "yes, you can sit down now, and write 'i will not be disrespectful in class' 1000 times". jerk.
DOG is right though....from what i hear, i was an angel in comparison!
First off, you got to be a friend to have a friend.
The reason dogs are man's best friend, aside from the fact that humans and dogs are the only known species to retain their playfulness throughout life, is dogs don't care about much.
They don't care if you don't make $100,00+ salary. They don't care if you drive a beat up 13 year-old truck. They don't care if you come home drunk. They don't care about the color of your skin. They don't care if you are ugly or beautiful. They will be your friend --and probably the most loyal friend you will ever have-- but you must be their friend first.
You feed them. Play with them. Scratch them. Walk them. Take them for rides. And they will devote their life to you. You can count on them through thick and thin. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what having a friend is.
yeah, "woof woof" dogs are best friends too, but i meant THE DOG!
THE DOG is a dog. All the qualities of a dog, good and bad.
If he was a cat they'd call him a pussy.
you know you're my boy and all, but if that's some sick twisted way to get me to scratch your tummy...i'm out
OK, I know what teacher you're talking about now...8th grade science (with labs and such), right? But I really still don't remember any incident with him. Perhaps it was so bad that I've blocked it from my mind? I do remember having to by him a SkyBar candy bar once when I missed an answer to something...
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