Cuts and Bruises

A million years ago when I was in school we had some rather brutal teachers. I haven't really thought about them much for many years - then along comes Facebook. An old classmate directed me to a Facebook group put together by some of my school's alumni. A picture of us in standard three (fifth grade), sitting like angels in our school uniforms (ties, short gray pants and blue blazers), with our sadist teacher, sparked a heated debate. The stories poured out. So many kids had been traumatized by him and his high school equivalent. The stories took me back thirty plus years and I could taste the terror I felt sitting in that classroom. Constantly praying that he would not pick on me. My writing was never neat enough and I was one of the last to be allowed to move from pencil to fountain pen. But, I was lucky enough to escape being the perpetual focus of his abuse.

I always knew these guys were twisted. I saw how both the boys and girls were ridiculed and teased by them. Interestingly enough, both of these men were responsible for giving the canings we frequently endured. They seemed to revel in the power. To ensure complete humiliation, you had to exit the office with a "Thank You Sir!". In standard three I watched as this teacher put his hand up girls dresses to pinch them until they bruised. In high school, I watched the favorites get ahead, while those out of favor suffered terribly. Reading my contemporaries reports of their humiliation and abuse, I'm ashamed I did not stand up to this. I took it as being the way of the world.

It seems these narrow minded tyrant are still teaching. They must be old men by now, I wonder if they realize how many lives they scarred.