I run this classroom, not you!
All these newspaper stories about the violence in schools have made me think back… Way back to my final year, in sixth form. Now my career as a high school student was not really distinguished. I didn’t letter in sports nor did I greatly excel upon the field of academia. I was just your normal kid, content to lead a normal, non-distinguished life, only I was a mite troublesome. I just wanted to have fun all the time, man.
At the time, the nation was facing a bit of a crisis in that they were having trouble finding good, trained teachers (just like now, I’m sure). St. George’s College was no different. So it was that I found myself in an A- Level Economics class with a young man, barely out of University himself, esconsed in the teacher’s chair. This young man was just that… A young man, with all the usual weaknesses and frailties of ego. Just like me, another young man. The thing was, he was the teacher and I was the student, and our goals were diametrically opposed. We were definitely on a collision path.
Now at the best of times I could be a bit disruptive in class. At the worst of times, I could be downright horrible! On the day in question, I was being a bit disruptive, but only mildly so. I was chatting away in the class, but quietly. Others were giving problems too, though, so I guess the sum of all the distractions was just about driving the teacher mad. He had been trying his very best to teach, and had to be quieting down students left and right. Finally, he saw me sitting sideways in my seat, facing somewhere else, chatting away like I was at a little cafe with friends having a drink, instead of in A-Level Economics. He thundered at me to be quiet. And I was, for a bit.
He went back to teaching, and in short order I went back to chatting, and the next thing I knew, he was right by my desk. He shouted at me, right in my face, telling me to leave his class. Now this was a guy who, if you slapped the school uniform on him, would not have looked out of place sitting beside me. And here he was, all up in my face shouting, and waving his finger… I wasn’t having it! I refused to leave!
The teacher grabbed my bag and my books and flung them on the ground, again demanding that I leave his classroom. I thought to myself “Was that really necessary!”. Some of the other students were telling me to leave, but I refused again. I told the teacher to pick up my bag and my books. He became more enraged and grabbed me. I exploded out of my chair and shoved him. I started to move towards him, the plan being to push my fist straight through his face.. You can see where this would have ended…
But it didn’t. Two of my buddies in the class saw that I was close to exploding, and they were quicker than I. They grabbed me and bustled me right out of the class. Then they refused to allow me back in… And they were water polo players, extremely fit and strong. They held me outside with ease. They eventually calmed me down a bit, told me to leave the area and cool off. So I did.
I wonder how the rest of that class went? The teacher never pursued the matter further, although I know he could’ve. And so, life went on. Although I have thanked them before,I will do so again. Thanks Phleg, Twin Batty… I love you guys!
You know, I’ve never apologised to the teacher. I have seen him a few times since I left high school. If I see him again, I will apologise to him. I gotta get ready for work, or I’d analyse this situation for you, to see how the teacher should have handled it. Maybe later… Check back and see…
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MB I always thought you to be quite the academic mogul!! I’m shocked to learn that you only consider yourself to be a normal run of the mill student! Dr D being the true friend to the end always told us of your ‘achievements.’ As a matter of a fact, I grew up knowing full well that your entire family excelled academically! Being that I attended school with Seven and was taught Spanish by one of your older sisters, who correct me if I am wrong, still does so. Additionally, won’t even bother go into the achievements of your other siblings like Seven who is testament to that. Oh well maybe you’re just downright humble! What a good yute
Big up to the Mad Bull’s family!! Everyone deserves applause sometime 
Hip, hip, hooray!!
Good to have true friends around to ‘help you out of a bad situation at school.’ Applause for Twin (shortened) and Phleg - hooray!
Well, then, having been on the receiving end of that crazed gleam in your eyes when your tightly coiled temper begins to unravel, I can only imagine that the teacher dropped the matter from pure, unadulterated FEAR
For those of you who have come to imagine the Mad Bull as a mild-mannered male, think again!!!!But, its the (insert family name here) temper - I have to admit to having just the teeniest touch of it myself!Anyway, this story made me laugh! I don’t know what to say is the reason behind it - but i had such a simialr experience while i was only in the 8th Grade!!! We had this really anal Latin teacher, who gave the entire class a lengthy paragraph to write out three hundred times as punishment for some silly prank we all played on him. On the assigned day, everyone else in the class turned in their 300 paragraphs… all except Seven of course. I told the teacher - in front of the entire class I might add - that i thought it was a waste of paper - far too expensive a commodity to waste my parents’ money on for such nonsense. (Did i add that the teacher was a man? Naturally, he felt, with every ounce of testosterone in his body, that his very manhood was being threatened by a 12 year old pipsqueak! Barely controlling his rage, he told me that I was to leave his class and not return until I had completed the 300 paragraphs! Can anyone guess the rest of the story? About two months later, near the end of the term, the Headmistress of the school, the legendary Mona, whose very name alone insired fear in all Immaculate students, called in my parents, to discuss the fact that I had ’skipped’ an entire term of Latin classes! LOLMy only regret to this day is that they all finally realized what I was up to before the school year had actually ended. I spent an entire term of Latin classes adorned in the school library reading an assortment of books (reading is my all-time favorite pastime), finishing up homework for other classes, sleeping etc…. Oh what fond memories!
Rufie, I don’t think of myself as a high achiever in school either - I think the truth is, for both MB and myself, and perhaps all of my siblings with the exeption of two to three of them (We are seven in all) none of us really ever had the inclination to live up to our full potential in school. In other words, we were no dunces, we were really just fun-seeking, aka lazy Later all!!!!
Seven, I do quite remember the male teacher to whom you refer - good description! He taught me English Lit. in the 11th grade, quite a disappointment from our former female English Lit teacher in the 10th; not sure if you remember her? Small bodied and dark with glasses and squeaky kind of spongy shoes? Thinking back now, maybe they were therapeutic? Who knows!!
Maybe what was therapeutic, Rufie?
Forgive the ambiguity MB, I’m not an A1 poster of comments (obviously!) - her squeaky kind of spongy shoes of course!
LOL Well MB, I as you know, I was in the sciences and hence was not priviliged to see the “BULL” being tamed by Phleg and Twin Batty! I guess that you can arrange a direct link between your and my posts as they are closely related, primarily for the BLUE and WHITE crew. I have two incidents to add, these will actually be ALMOST as long as Seven’s ‘essay’ posted above!
Remember an English teacher named White Patch, Patch for short. He had a streak of white hair on his forehead. (As I now have Dermatologic training, I’m now aware that his White Patch is actually called a FORELOCK and he may have suffered from a condition called PIEBALDISM, me nuff eh?) Anyway, MB was seated in a front row in one of White Patch’s classes, and of course in the class he had his back turned to Patch. Patch kept telling MB to turn around and pay attention, but naturally, he ignored him and continued on his unruly way. Patch again insisted. Eventually, the temper of the Mad Bull raged and he shouted back at poor Patch with attitude pointing in his face (something he was FAMOUS for) saying, “ME NAW DEAL WID YOU.” This was the nature of the beast called Mad Bull.
I also recall in either 4th or 5th form, a member of our class who had been badly burned as a result of a gas stove explosion, REMEMBER? I wont call any names. Well we were in a class with a certain priest who was famous for ‘irrigating’ you with saliva when he spoke, he also taught Religion and was feard by all, even more than how some teachers feared Mad Bull. Well, the priest was explaining that he had gone to see our unfortunate classmate while he was in hospital here. However, he said that he did not think that our friend recognized him ,as he was HEAVILY SEDATED. Now there was this other guy in the class that we used to call, KEG. Keg did not understand the meaning of ‘heavily sedated’. So he asked what it meant. Mad Bull then chanted in, “It mean seh him did deh pon drugs!!” Now the poor priest was outraged, “DEH PON DRUGS?” This was Mad Bull on form.
Hush my yute, the years have tamed you. I’m actually dying with gales of laughter now. I think I’m going to do some more High School posting this evening as I really lack a topic. LOL.
No prob. MB, I remember it like it was yesterday.And I recall that Teacher did not last too long…maybe thanks to the Mad Bull.
I’ve behaved badly at times, too. Now I realize how frightening it must be, when you realize you’re in a classroom full of kids that might decide to play ” follow the leader.”
And today, you just don’t know what anyone is capable of, even a child.