Now imagine him driving a navy blue Galaxy 500 convertible w/red leather upholstery...my Bantam weight grade 9 French teacher
How odd but I can remember the man, the subject and even many of our interactions but his name…that has fallen into a sticky goop of “was it___?…no, that was my grade 8 home room teacher…was it___? … no, that was my grade 7 homeroom teacher and a swell guy.”
But can I describe him? Easily. A little over 5 feet 7 inches – in the paradox of the inter-metric generation, I measure height/distance in the old English Foot/pounds scale, temperature in metric but weight/volume is flexible – I can easily meaure/understand volumes given in either. Anyway, back to this fellow – Grade 8 French teacher, short man with blonde hair in a neatly tended, magnificent duck tale. Looking back, he must have taken great pride in his appearance, like a rooster and this hair was his coxcomb.
He was fit but blessed with a face much like a possum, as I recall: small eyes, long pointy nose. His manner was one of pure arrogance and discipline. I still am not exactly sure what set me off with this man but it wasn’t long after the year started I was deep in conflict with him. For the second time in my life I was actually sent to the principal’s office for my insubordination. The principal, a gentle, wise man who also happened to be a family friend, listened to my side of the story and said, simply, “just go apologize and tell him you won’t do it again.” So that is exactly what I did, in a flat, totally unapologetic tone, upon returning to the class and staring at his smug, ratty face, “Mr. Mckinnon says I’m to say I’m sorry and I won’t do it again.: I then flounced to my desk without waiting to hear anything this man had to say in reply. I could feel his glare but the admiring smirks of my fellow classmates more than made up for his heat.
My mother was eventually called in for a special meeting with this teacher. My mother was an old fashioned sort of woman, if the teacher wanted to see a parent it was because the child was doing something wrong. This is also because my father was a teacher. Normally I understand that it is the child that needs assistance and the teacher is only struggling to find the way in.
My mother was not pleased and insisted there must be something I was doing that made this whole thing my fault, all I had to do was confess to her before she went to see the teacher. I spent a long afternoon in my room while mom went to her meeting with the teacher.
“I’m sorry”, she said to me when she came home, “I can see why you’re having trouble with this man, he’s …. he’s an asshole.”. My mother did not use such language lightly. She counselled me to keep my head down and just gut out the rest of the year. My french marks were good enough to carry me through and he couldn’t fail me on that. My comprehension and pronunciation in the language was more than competent. So I knew I’d pass. The teacher knew I’d pass – he had called my mother in just to make life more difficult for me.
This is why he still remains the worst teacher I’ve ever had although I did learn a great deal from him. I learned sometimes people in positions of authority get carried away. Sometimes people find themselves in positions where they simply do not belong – as he did not belong in charge of a junior high class. I learned to keep my head down and gut it out when something seems pretty bad and that, eventually, the year will end or a change will occur to cause this problem to pass – if it is a problem not of your own making. I also learned to have a little faith in my personal judgement of other people’s character.
He was the worst teacher I ever had in terms of an entire year of instruction in that particular subject, French, went down the tubes but, I guess, he did teach me a lot outside of that arena. On the other hand, so many other teachers I’ve had taught me well beyond the subjects they were scattering chalk dust over, I still think this guy, this Mr. Whatsisname stands out as a waste of a year. Other than hearing my mother call someone an asshole.