Thoughtful Thursday: School Days
At the one extreme, there are students that go off the deep-end and harm or even kill their classmates. At the other extreme, we have schools that ban stuff like tag at recess. And, the list of things you cannot do in school seems to keep growing.
When you were in K-12 school, what did you do that might get you in trouble today? Besides tag.
When I was in grade school, we used to play a game at recess called “Kill the Man with the Ball.” I’m sure that would be allowed today…
In junior high, we used to play a game called “War.” This was all done on paper. You had your tank; your opponent had his. You’d take turns firing at each other with a pen stroke, until one had decimated the other’s tank. I think we may have had little armies of people to kill off too. I’m sure that would be allowed today…
In high school, I’d write short stories, and had a couple novels in the works (who didn’t, eh?). One took place at a school where students were being killed off one by one. Yeah, I bet that would get me sent to counseling in this day and age. But, you know, you’re supposed to write what you know, and what do students know about if not going to school?
On the one hand, I understand the need to be cautious and preventing tragedy. But, on the other hand, I worry that sometimes creative students may be discouraged by school officials who are themselves unable to separate intent from fiction. Sometimes writing “dark” things may be a sign of trouble or a cry for help; othertimes, it’s just a budding writing career.
So, what did you do in school that might land you in trouble today?
I remember Kill the Man with the Ball! What a great game. So simple, yet so painful. Rule 1: Give ball to someone. Rule 2: Kill them (metaphorically, of course). Rule 3: Repeat.
Here at the University of Florida, there was an English major who wrote some crazy horror stories, so crazy that the local cops and FBI questioned him, hoping to get a lead on some similar sounding murders. They dug through his trash and followed him around. The dean backed him and said (paraphrasing), “I’ll have every one of my students and faculty write a horror story if you don’t back off.” Boy did the cops feel stupid.
A lot of local private schools in town have adopted “no touching” rules. A co-worker had his kid sent home for violating it. Ridiculous. I mean doesn’t lack of human contact make people crazy? Isn’t that akin to solitary confinement except that there’s people around? Kill the Man with the Ball should be a required class. Works better than any therapy I know of.
In grade school, we had uniforms. If I remember right, we even played KMB with our uniforms on! I think there were parents or teachers that would keep an eye on us, but they let us play without much (or any?) interference that I can remember. I just remember one day when ML tried to hold me back because she didn’t want me to get hurt.
Heck, the government’s apparently been reading all of our stuff online!
In high school, PDAs (public displays of affection) were prohibited. But, most teachers didn’t make a big deal out of it. I mean, I don’t know of anyone who ever got detention or sent home because of a PDA.
I actually got in trouble back then, there was no “might land.” I took a squirt gun to class. Every time the physic’s teacher turned around I squirted. Oddly, I kept hitting her in the back of the head. She had a hair sprayed behive. It took the water a second to penetrate the shell. I wasn’t that smart. She conducted a desk-to-desk search. I got busted and sent to the principal’s office.
A few months later, the same teacher decided to hook up a Vandegraaff generator. You know, those electric ball things that make your hair stand on end. The teacher wasn’t that smart either and asked me what the ground was on the device. I sarcastically replied she didn’t need it. She hooked up our quarterback on the electric mess and turned it on. After a few minutes of lecture, she told him to sit down. Of course, he couldn’t. The generator electrocuted him anytime he tried to remove his hand from it. His hair was at full salute. Much panic. The teacher ran in and out of class. Some other football players tried to tackle him and got electrocuted. Finally, the principal, whom I was now friendly with, ran in the class. I asked him to throw the circuit breaker. Power down. I got blamed for trying to kill the quarterback and spent some more time with the principal. Nice guy.
I bounced a girl’s head off the lunchroom table, who kept pounding mustard packs with her fists, spraying everyone’s clothes. She was a rich kid and replaced the stained clothes. I was poor and could not. The principal and I still email. I’m over 50 without a criminal record.
You win.
We played spades in physics.
Really… we did.
The only thing I did in high school, other than some silly games, that would get me in trouble in school today was when I waited in the restroom to fight Randy Dixon. He had been harassing me for days and I finally had had enough. Even though I never fought and a big teddy bear - though a skinny one in those days -, I had had enough and agreed to meet him in the bathroom.
He didn’t show and I went on to geometry.
That was the first - and only - class that I got yanked out of by the principle. Dixon had gone there instead of meeting me in the restroom.
I was a good kid for the most part. That was the third - and last - time I got corporal punishment. Believe me, it hurt! But at least my face wasn’t messed up.
Dixon died later from the complications of a hard life. I don’t remember what it was. Might have been drugs.