Graf #2

       I don't believe that there are a lot of bad teachers in this world.  It just doesn't seem to happen in a field where so much is based on the caring nature of the individual to enrich so many young minds.  But there are those who grandfathered in from another time, or were put in place by some other unknown power, that just don't want to be there.  Mine was a Mr. York.  He had a passion, but I don't think it had anything to do with empowering young minds.  He didn't want a challenge, so he didn't present one to us.  And so his homework was easy, pick the answer out of the book and paste it in place on the answer sheet, in order.  Light work load leads to fidgeting teens.  Fidgeting teens tend to get in trouble, as they had for a long time in that class, but that wasn't about to change.  I was a good student, not exemplary, but I tended not to join in with the horsing around.  But there is one day I remember.  There was a group of boys whispering at the table behind me, noisily as usual, of their master plan to sneak into the teachers lounge to get a chance at the soda machine.  This was not the first time hearing of such a plan, and knowing their prior success gave me an odd, false sense of security.  So when it came time, I offered some money in exchange for their services.  They happily agreed, and we all turned back around and went on with the class.  One or two suspicious bathroom trips later I had a frosty MD on my desk, but I was going to save it for later when I could enjoy it.  A few moments had passed and before I knew it one of the boys in the back had knocked a can over.  Spilling it all over the carpeting in the back.  Mr. York heard the thud, stood up to see what happened, and that was the end of it.  It only took a few minutes for him to "sort out" the problem.  In the end I wound up with my first detention, and without my ice-cold Dew to wash it all down with.  And so did all the rest the boys back, but the only difference was that, for them, it sure wasn't their first time.