![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the old school
Mar. 11th, 2005 12:56 pmA few developers from Microsoft Research came to talk to my lab today, and about halfway through the talk I realized that one of them (A.A.) was one of the "big kids" -- a graduate of my highschool, about five years before me. I knew him (back then) mostly by name, not by face, but he is part of the "old [school]" in my mind, and he hasn't changed a bit.
He and I swapped stories about our shared (awful) experience with B., a 7th-8th grade teacher who had a perverse pleasure in torturing bright young 12 year olds with his foul mouth and break-you-down disposition. A.A.'s description was "he was a break-you-down kinda guy without the build-you-up again", and A.A. was impressed that I had never submitted to Hidden Places, the "literary journal" where B. would publish the dark exposed secrets of the the 12 and 13 year old writers.
I had refused throughout 7th grade to do the thing he asked for, which was to write down my traumas and my dramas (it was "creative writing" class, but it was supposed to be factual). It wasn't a conscious decision, but in retrospect, it was a turning point in my life -- I refused to expose myself to the dangerous presence that was this teacher. I'd never had (lucky, I realize) I'd never had a teacher who wasn't looking out for my best interest before, but this was the first.
Since then, it's been easy -- nobody's been as psycho as B., and I've been able to spot the trouble cases before then.
Must run -- I'm entertaining in the office -- but I thought I'd write that story down quickly.
He and I swapped stories about our shared (awful) experience with B., a 7th-8th grade teacher who had a perverse pleasure in torturing bright young 12 year olds with his foul mouth and break-you-down disposition. A.A.'s description was "he was a break-you-down kinda guy without the build-you-up again", and A.A. was impressed that I had never submitted to Hidden Places, the "literary journal" where B. would publish the dark exposed secrets of the the 12 and 13 year old writers.
I had refused throughout 7th grade to do the thing he asked for, which was to write down my traumas and my dramas (it was "creative writing" class, but it was supposed to be factual). It wasn't a conscious decision, but in retrospect, it was a turning point in my life -- I refused to expose myself to the dangerous presence that was this teacher. I'd never had (lucky, I realize) I'd never had a teacher who wasn't looking out for my best interest before, but this was the first.
Since then, it's been easy -- nobody's been as psycho as B., and I've been able to spot the trouble cases before then.
Must run -- I'm entertaining in the office -- but I thought I'd write that story down quickly.
