Hot as it is, I can sense September is just around the corner, and with it comes the new school year. That should not be a problem for a retired industrial manager. But it does cause my heart to beat a bit faster.
Unlike most of my brethren, I did not retire completely. I dabbled at teaching in a local public middle school as a substitute. I know that you are going to say something about raging hormones and all that kind of stuff, but I really enjoyed seventh graders. Not only that, but also I became used to the school's rhythms. That is because I spent most of my teaching time at only one school (at the principal's behest).
If a person is alert, he or she can sense problems developing on a school campus. Patterns of behavior don't seem right. For instance, crowds of kids form in unusual places, or the kids become unusually quiet. Enough kids knew me that I could step into a small group and take care of problems quickly before all 850 kids on the campus were affected.
What did I teach? Mostly math and science. And every time I stood in front of an algebra class I thought of Mr. Wright, my own algebra teacher of over fifty years ago. If he were to come back from the grave and see me there, he would call the police to have me dragged off. I did it to torment his memory. He certainly tormented me enough.
So I am beginning to get restless as September approaches. And there is no reason for it. I am not going to teach a single lesson. This is my first year in a long time not to be licensed (credentialed) to teach in California public school.
Maybe I won't have those dreams any more--the ones about being late for classes.
culture school humor