Hard to imagine that 58 years of living takes us back to a place in time on Laurel Avenue, where the school of hard knocks began. Welcome to ............... The Lords of Laurel In 1957, as Junior High School students at The Laurel School, we were in a savage world of high test hormones and competitive ego. There didnt seem to be any bounds to our misbehavior and the more outrageous we could be, the more respect we gained among our peers. In the day of the Slack-Jaws, Spit Curls, Garrison Belts and surly attitudes, we were top contenders for the Triple Crown of Trouble. Enter Mr. Clark, a silver-haired “professor” style Science teacher whose naïve agenda was to teach Seventh Grade Science to a bunch of us no-counts. He was a bright, kind, well-meaning and distinguished man who honestly thought his curriculum would appeal to us! Without a shred of disciplinary fiber in his character, he taught as though we were listening. Note passing, slam-books, spit balls, paper clip projectiles, and general mayhem dominated anything Mr. Clark had to say, his voice barely audible over the din. “People, people, please settle down”, he would respectfully say. He treated us like the fine upstanding students that we were not, a communication error that just fueled more misbehavior. If I learned anything in his science class, I really cant remember what it was. He is not remembered for his scholastic impact. What I do remember was the alpha-male in our clique and what he did one day to Mr. Clark with his fountain pen. For some reason at that point of evolution, it was cool to have a fountain pen, so naturally we all had them. Mine was an Esterbrook and I got it for Christmas. One day, as we sat in class, Mr. Clark was visiting with students at their desks, one-on-one, examining their written work. When he arrived at the desk directly in front of our “Irish Fonz”, he flicked his fountain pen at the back of Mr. Clark and the result was a collage of machine gun style ink stains on the back of his suit jacket and pants. For us Junior High punks, it was the Coup detat. We smirked and cheered in recognition of our leaders audacity. Mr. Clark was genuinely a nice man who unrealistically envisioned that he was enriching our nasty little lives with knowledge. Willing participants in the educational process we were not. The result was chaos, anarchism, and a very sad ending. One day, some months later, Mr. Clark broke down into tears and left the classroom in the midst of our wrongful conduct, an event we took with indifference. Our Captain had jumped ship and we were loose in our own whirlpool of social sewage. I knew we had gone too far, but it was a bell that could not be un-rung. We drifted in uproar for only a short ten or fifteen minutes when a new Captain appeared on the bridge with a 39” meter stick. Mr. Jerinac, the science teacher from a neighboring classroom slammed the broad side of the stick down on the teachers desk with a horrendous “crack”, a wake up order that signaled the sound of silence. Mr. Jerinac did posses the skill of discipline and he did have our attention, the law, according to Jerinac and..... you could hear a pin drop. As remorse set in, we didn’t feel so cool anymore. We never did see Mr. Clark again and the rest of the school year was completed by another teacher with a firm hand. It was rumored that we had driven Mr. Clark nuts and that he had been committed to an institution. We never really knew, he may have quit teaching. This is one part of my childhood that I wish it could retract and I know many of my cool classmates from the day feel as I do. Sadly, Mr. Clark was ill-equipped to handle the savage mob mentality that accompanies children of that age. As unfair as it is, teaching children is not just about teaching, but about citizenship as well. Mr. Clark bestowed respect upon us, a courtesy we had not earned. We were there to get an education against our will and where we could avoid it..... we did. Some years later, in 1965 I learned a little about discipline at The Great Lakes Naval Training Center. My arrival in North Chicago easily eclipsed my prior long distance travel resume; Palisades Park, New Jersey. Along with 87 other guys from God knows where, we were introduced to the Company Commander, a man named Chief Grinstead who said “most of you guys have just turned loose of your Mamas apron strings!” “Well, Im here to tell you that you are nothing special!” “Your Mama may think you are special, but for now, your ass is mine.” “You will not forget me.” “You are all Pukes!” “When Im through with youll be men, ready to serve the United States Navy, but for now, you are all Pukes!” I did not forget him. This was one guy, who terrified all 88 of us. I survived Grinsteads reign of terror and sometimes think of old Mr. Clark and how he just didnt have it in him to address his troops like that. Without rules and consequences, we have chaos. When accountability is introduced, we create order. This simple axiom speaks volumes for our society and for the future of our country. Its nice to take the passive route and assume civility lies within the most basic human being but in reality, the most basic human being is unkind, self-centered and demanding. William Golding laid this out for us in his novel,“Lord of the Flies” and we inadvertently demonstrated it in real-time at The Laurel Avenue School, more years ago than I care to admit. Life has caused me to examine some of my mis-deeds and I have regrets of my own behavior in Mr. Clark s science class. In an effort to find the undamaged diamond in the ashes, it is significant to recognize that perhaps the most valuable lesson he taught us was not in the study of Science.....but in Civics.
Posted on: Sat, 03 Jan 2015 13:35:04 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015