My Teachers Were Not My Friends

Let me tell you a story about a great adventure. High School is an interesting place. Some students hang on to their high school like a security blanket. It's their lifeblood. They thrive there all day while participating in a dozen extracurricular activities until evening. They get home late, do their homework, and get ready for another day. The teachers are also their best friends. My personal experience of this story was somewhat different. I knew it was business as usual day in and day out. I didn't depend on school nearly as much as some of my peers. Of course, I went and did what was required of me. However, the second the bell rang at 2:30, I was off to my gigs at community theaters, martial arts lessons, and dance. School did not offer me the right kinds of activities. In addition, my teachers were not my friends and that often got me into a bit of trouble from time to time.

As senior year approached, I felt something pulling at me from behind. It was the lure of my future: a college career. While my grades were decent, the lacrosse team was my only connection to the school. Hence, I got the urge to conform. Now, don't worry kids. I had a pretty good head on my shoulders and knew it wouldn't absorb my identity. So, despite my respectable theatrical resume outside the school, I accepted a role as Salesman #5 in The Music Man. I joined and eventually became an officer of FBLA and the paragon of cynicism and humor as a member of the televised morning announcements team.

I felt like I had it all. It was a week before the play opened. I was a popular anchor, adding much needed vim and vigor to the morning announcements. Also, I qualified for a state competition in the FBLA. I was not a man, but the man. Who would have thought a simple assembly could have caused me so much distress. But it did.

One afternoon, like many previous afternoons, a closet Christian Fundamentalist group aptly named "Campus Life" conducted one of their typical programs filled with popular music, shiny lights, and wholesome messages played out on three large projection screens. Ironically, I had a friend named Christian, who was the butt of a recent joke because of his radically new style of dress. Amongst all the hooting and hollering during the show, I decided to join in by shouting, "Christian Jones is trendy!" With that being said, I watched the rest of the show and then went about the shorter day, thanking the good folks at Campus Life under my breath for the shorter periods.

Fast forward to Friday. The play was opening that evening. I, the male protagonist, was called to the principal's office. I figured no big deal; I had been there several times before. However, today was a very different day. The principal accused me of discharging racial and derogatory slurs. Under what grounds, I demanded. My once beloved morning announcements mentor made the accusation that I shouted, "All Christian guys are fags" during the assembly two days prior. According to the principal, I was guilty without question. I was removed from the morning announcements team, barred from the state competition because the FBLA teacher felt I was a "loose cannon," taken out of the play the day it opened, removed from two lacrosse games, and suspended for three days starting Monday.

I petitioned and the suspension was removed. However, the damage was already done. By the time the smoke settled, the activities from which I was banned were over. Lacrosse season ended. The play was done. The competition had passed. Despite being exonerated and the accusation stricken from the record, I was still punished.

It was a long and complicated adventure that taught me several valuable lessons. Whatever the case, does this story have a moral: probably not, right? However, it does prove that not everybody has a warm and fuzzy story about teachers. Moreover, people are driven towards certain careers for various reasons. I steered towards teaching. Why, one might ask? Well, I think I subconsciously chose to consider what my teachers did in the 12 years of my public education and do the exact opposite. Thanks for reading.

Sincerely,

Shaun Johnson