Post by Joe McCarron on Aug 15, 2011 6:59:49 GMT -5
It was graduation day, June 1971, at Pulaski High School. Last chance to say good-byes to people you will never see, or perhaps, never want to see, again. While for many, I suppose, there was a mixed feeling of melancholy and excitement, I was filled with the spirit of ennui. I just wanted to get it done and over with. There was no “To Sir With Love” emotionality about it.
The commencement activities took place in the gym followed by a dinner in the cafeteria, where we sat with our home room. My parents were with me. During the diner, I excused myself to lav when I was followed by a certain teacher, whose name I will not say.
He took me aside, way out of earshot to anyone, and began to curse and swear at me. Not only was he shaking in his anger but spittle was coming out of his mouth. He ended his tirade by warning me that we’d meet again and when that happened, he’d beat the living shit out me. I don't think he liked me.
I wasn’t scared but I was surprised and shocked. I’ll be the first to admit that when it came to childish and disruptive antics in the classroom, in regards to certain teachers I did not like, I was a hellion. But by my senior year, such conduct had already become a thing of the past. This guy was off the wall in his behavior. I couldn’t think of anything cleaver to say in response other than tell him “say it, don’t spray it”. After wiping my face with my sleeve, I just quietly walked away. I never did tell anyone of this incident.
Six years ago, while at my job, a name from the past came flickering across the computer screen…this exact teacher. When I saw his name, this incident I had forgotten, came back with full force. Ethics and legal consequences prevent me from saying anything more exact as to the circumstances, but suffice to say, I went to meet him.
While barely discernible in his advanced age, it was him alright. I went up to him and shook his hand telling him my full name. Surprisingly, nary a flicker of recognition passed over his face. Truth be told, it was rather blank. It was at that point I realized how juvenile this whole thing was. I did not feel good about this and it accomplished nothing. After our introductions, I excused myself, never to see him again.
This did reinforce a lesson I had already learned about the futility of holding grudges. Judging the present with an image from the past, is for lesser beings…not me.
