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| Image courtesy of Stuart Miles – FreeDigitalPhotos.net |
As I move through middle age, I reminisce more and more
about my schooldays. One salient memory involves a terrifying science teacher
and a gaggle of semi-illiterate chemistry students
It was spring 1972, and examinations were looming; important
ones that could determine our academic futures. Sitting in the chemistry laboratory
along with my 14-year-old school mates – almost all boys (it was an age when
girls rarely studied science subjects) – I awaited the arrival of Mr Webster,
the head of the science department.
Mr Webster terrified any pupil who ventured within 50 yards
of him. He didn’t need to shout; one look sufficed to instil bowel-blasting dread
in even the bravest of teenage students. So when he entered the classroom at
9.00 am sharp on that sunny April morning, the chatter amongst us instantly
ceased. He strode to his desk, turned to face us, and his laser-gaze scanned
the arc of potential victims who were all head bowed, avoiding his stare.
Suffocating silence lay over the room like a huge polythene blanket. It must
have been 30 seconds before Mr Webster spoke; it felt much longer.
“Procrastination”
Nobody responded. All one could hear was the faint whistling
of Bunsen burners from the adjacent laboratory
Mr Webster grimaced, grabbed his white chalk, turned to the
blackboard and wrote:
PROCRASTINATION
He turned to face his perplexed class, pointed at the board
and asked, “Anyone care to comment?”
I later realized that the point he was trying to make
related to our lack of revision for the imminent examinations, and how we were
all putting off until tomorrow the work we should have been doing today. But,
at the time, none of us understood what the word meant; we were all 14-year-old
scientists, not English scholars! I sneaked a peep inside my chemistry textbook
to see if the definition of procrastination lay in the same chapter as the one
describing distillation, evaporation and condensation, but to no avail. For one
terrible moment I wondered whether he was privy to our solitary night time practices,
and had concluded that our daily “cranking the shank” was impairing eye-sight
to an extent that interfered with our ability to name the elements in the
periodic table.
Frustrated by our lack of comprehension, Mr Webster threw the chalk onto the table, commanded us to "look the word up in a dictionary," and walked out of the classroom, leaving us teacher-less for the remainder of the session. He was a strange, strange man.
Ah, happy days!
What would have happened if someone had rubbed out the word on the board and replaced it with "MASTURBATION"? And under interrogation, every boy insisted that that was the word Mr Webster had written. Rebellion can be a beautiful thing if it's done in the right way.
ReplyDeleteNow why didn't I think of that at the time?
DeleteSounds like an intimidating man! Any relation to Webster's Dictionary? LOL! My mother drove me nuts about words I didn't know the meaning of. Whenever I was reading a school book and didn't recognize a word, I'd ask her what it meant She ALWAYS made me get up off my lazy ass and look it up in the dictionary. Thankfully, nowadays we have GOOGLE!!!
ReplyDeleteWe may have Google, Marcia, but I still own a huge Collins dictionary (so high it blocks out the light) and it is at my side whenever I'm on the laptop. I guess I'm old fashioned.
DeleteHAHAHA! I guess I "procrastinated" a lot to my hidden stash of nudie magazines then!
ReplyDeleteA glossy Playboy magazine and an active right-hand. Those were the days!
DeleteCranking the shank?
ReplyDeleteAnd hear I thought spanking the monkey was bad.
Then there's waxing the brass candlestick.
DeleteI don't worry about going blind. I just did it until I needed glasses.
DeleteHe does sound strange. I had a science teacher who would make us all turn our desks away from him so he could eat his lunch without us staring him. And our class was at 10 a.m.
ReplyDeleteI wonder whether such teachers are still around?
DeleteI always found that teachers like that taught me lessons I didn't realize until years later. They probably got tired of banging their heads against the wall trying to get the information into my vacant cranium. :D
ReplyDeleteThose type of teachers certainly held the class's attention, so perhaps we did learn something from them.
DeleteHe sounds crazy, just like my science teacher in 7th grade. He used to take out his glass eyeball and show it to us and say "I'm watching you" when he turned his back to write on the board! Nuttos!
ReplyDeleteYour science teacher clearly was crazier than mine!
DeleteI appreciate you taking the time to comment. Take care.
Your science teacher was definitely bonkers! My high school Maths teacher would ask us inane questions similar to this once in while. She'd then hiss ""Foolish virgins!" at our dumbfounded faces before stomping out. But her ire was nothing compared to the wrath of my Geography teacher who'd fling our graded test papers around the classroom (while we dived to retrieve them) shouting, "Buffaloes, all of you, ya! Buffaloes!" My science teachers were perfectly sane in comparison - apart from the odd chronic belcher. :-|
ReplyDeleteYour response suggest that my teachers were relatively sane!
DeleteThanks for your interest.
I now want to be a teacher. That'd literally be all I'd ever do. Walk into random classrooms, write single-word riddles on the blackboard, and then just walk off. No explanation. No words spoken. Ever.
ReplyDeleteThat's the kind of legacy I want to leave behind.
Your excitement and enthusiasm is infectious. It's a role that would be cool; I think I'll apply as well.
ReplyDeleteI think we've all had a teacher who scared the class at one time or another. I loved the confusion brought on by that big new word...enjoyed your story.
ReplyDeleteYes, the scary teacher is clearly not a rare phenomenon.
DeleteThanks for taking the time to comment.
On a positive note, I've heard that regular procrastination reduces your risk of prostate cancer.
ReplyDeleteThat's a fair point, Joe (if you can excuse the pun).
DeleteAh the clever teachers, thinking "Let's make them figure it out themselves" and most of us did NOT. I had an English teacher who would tell us about once a month "If you can't work silently by yourself today I'll write you a pass to the library." Boom. Free hour!
ReplyDeleteAn hour in the library as a punishment? I used to suffer detention after school or, occasionally, the leather strap. I appreciate you taking the time to read and comment.
DeleteI've known a few Mr. Webster's in my day.
ReplyDeleteMy gym teacher, Mrs. Turnbloom, for one.
MEAN old woman. (she was probably 30!) Horrible as hell.
Great retelling of this experience.
Yes everyone seems to have had experience of at least one horrible teacher - perhaps the education authorities actively recruit them!
Delete