It was a hard winter, by local standards. Many weeks near 0°F (-17.8°C), with a lot of snow over many ice storms, and power outages galore.

On this day, it was 7:15 AM, sleeting and raining, with high winds, and we were all arriving at school. One of the lovely children decided it would be marvelous fun to pull the fire alarm.

So out we go. Most of the staff and several hundred kids- fortunately, at this point, the majority of kids were still on their buses on the way. The only people who know it was a false pull are the admin, and we can’t go back in until they clear it, so we wait.

And wait. 

And wait.

Then, through the window, there are kids. A lot of kids. So, I call the main office, to no answer. Five minutes of calling the office and the admin personnel’s phones before getting an answer.

Admin: “Why are you still outside?”

That was the response. To me, wet, cold, and shivering, and the hundreds of others, all wet, cold, and shivering.

The admin had been in the building for ten minutes, but never bothered to tell anyone else that we could go back in. They never actually went beyond the entry canopy, so they stayed dry, and when they went in, the kids from the buses were let in as well. But the person I talked to was just getting fresh coffee from the pot she started when they went back in, as the coffee they all had before the alarm was cold, so she had to make a fresh pot!

Ask me again why I am retiring?

In my college algebra class, the teacher passed out an activity for us to do. He didn’t print enough, so I didn’t get one.

Me: “You’re a math teacher, right?”

Teacher: “Yes.”

Me: “So where did you learn how to count?”

Teacher: “Ha ha, very funny. I teach a lot of classes, and I deal with a lot of students.”

Me: “Yeah, but in this class… there’s only seven of us.”

I’m teaching my class a basic geography lesson, and explaining why days and nights can vary in length throughout the year (and up here in Sweden, trust me, they vary quite a lot!). A student puts up his hand.

Student: “Sir, so you’re saying the poles of the Earth have extended periods of time where the sun never sets?”

Me: “Yes.”

Student: “The opposite pole has the opposite experience at the same time. They experience extended darkness?”

Me: “Yes.”

Student: “The latitude at which we live never has this occurrence.”

Me: “Also yes.”

Student: “Therefore, it follows logically that there is a latitude that is the average of these two extremes.”

Me: “Congratulations! You just discovered the equator!”

The class laughed, and the student looked embarrassed, but then I stopped them and said that the student had used logical reasoning to get to a part of the lesson I hadn’t taught yet, and they should all be doing that more instead of just blindly listening to what I had to say.

That same boy also surmised why we have seasons within seconds of my explaining that the Earth is tilted by 23.5° relative to the solar system’s orbital plane. He’s going places!

Related:
No Aptitude For Latitude, Part 4
No Aptitude For Latitude, Part 3
No Aptitude For Latitude, Part 2
No Aptitude For Latitude

A science teacher is giving us a lesson on pregnancy and the reproductive process.

Teacher: “Okay, class, now we’re going to talk about contraceptives. Can anyone name any form of contraceptive?”

Classmate #1: “Condom!”

The teacher starts writing them on the board.

Classmate #2: “Diaphragm!”

Classmate #3: “Crocs!”

The whole class stopped and stared at [Classmate #3].

Classmate #3: “I said what I said.”

The teacher laughs… and adds it to the board.

This is a story from the 1990s, when I was working as a Councilor in Training (CIT) for a summer camp. I was sixteen, and this was my first time working with kids whom I didn’t babysit.

We had a problem kid, whom I’ll call Maddie. Maddie was one of those kids who thought the rules didn’t apply to her and had a very bad habit of jumping on people’s backs from behind and saying “Surprise!” in a very excited tone. I was only one of two CITs for a camp of thirty-odd junior kids, and it was my first year, so I was struggling to establish boundaries.

The first time Maddie jumped on my back, I said:

Me: “Hey! That’s dangerous! If you jump me by surprise, I could fall and hurt you!”

Maddie would just laugh and run off.

About a week after camp started, we were at the beach for the 4th of July fireworks. I’m nervously hanging out with my kids, because it’s dark and the beach is crowded. Suddenly, Maddie jumped on my back, and I made a split-second call. I knew how to stage-fall from theater, and I figured that the girl could handle me falling on her onto sand as opposed to a wooden floor. 

So, I collapsed backwards bonelessly, landing on her. She screamed. I immediately got up, checked to make sure she was fine (she was), and then I explained:

Me: “Jumping on people is not okay.”

She never did it again.