The Sins of the Teacher 

Exodus 24:7 warns that the children shall suffer for the sins of their Fathers'.  It is equally true that the children suffer from the sins (faults and stupidities) of their teachers.

        School begins next week, and my thoughts take me back to the Fall of 1962, when I walked into my classroom for my first full-time teaching job -- 9th Grade English in Duncanville Jr. High School.  As I told this story to a young friend, I found myself choked and crying over events that happened 61 years ago.  I thought of that 15 year-old boy, now dead or in his 70's, and how my youthful stupidity had forever impacted his life.  

        Jack and Jackie were in the White House, and Camelot was in full force;  the whole country was as optimistic as our young President. Hair was getting bigger, and as if to balance, skirts were getting shorter.  This was not trivial in an era when professional attire for women, and school dress for girls mandated skirts (no pants allowed).   

        I was 22 years old, had attained 1.5 college degrees, and had just celebrated my 3rd wedding anniversary.  My husband Charles and I had two daughters, Jackie Lee, age two years, and Denise Ruth, age 9 months.  We had just purchased our first home, and made the last payment on our first car.  Charles was in his 2nd year of employment with the VA -- and I was embarking on my first teaching job.  We were rushing into life full speed ahead.

        Some of my students were repeating 9th grade English.  They were 16, and came over from the High School to the Jr. High for my class.  Most of my students were 15, although a couple had repeated a grade and were 16.  They were only six or seven years younger than their teacher.  From Day One, it was clear I was being tested.  I was a cocky, smart-ass, know-it-all, determined not to let them get the best of me.  By the end of the year, we had declared "peace" and were having a pretty good time, but the first months were rocky.

        One of my proudest classroom moments occurred that fall, when I opened my desk drawer, to find an assortment of open condoms.  My expression never changed, as I calmly reached in, extracted my roll-book, and closed the drawer.  From the disappointed expressions on several faces, I knew who was "in on" this prank.   

        I taught six sections of Freshman English, averaging 30 students a class, with just over 180 students.  Grading even a short, one-question essay took me over an hour.  Grading a real exam, or an outside writing assignment required a minimum of five hours, and could easily take twelve.  With class sizes so large, it is not surprising that most teachers gave "multiple choice" or "fill-in-the blank" exams.  When I handed out my first short essay exam, one truly confused student looked at me and asked, "What am I supposed to do?"  Turns out the kid had never had anything except "short-answer exams" in eight years in our educational system.

        The literature curriculum was established by the state and the school district and adopted by the School Board.  I had some choices in the writing assignments, but the required literature had to be covered by all students by the end of the school year.  If we were to make it; it was clear that the students had to "keep up" with their daily reading assignments.  If they fell behind we were all doomed.  

        I had always been a procrastinating student, and was determined not to let anyone fall hopelessly behind.  To keep us moving, I employed "pop quizzes," trying to make everyone "keep up" with their  assigned readings.  

        The overcrowded classroom placed students only feet apart, and absolutely invited cheating.  Of course cheating on essay questions was difficult, but cheating on multiple choice was unstoppable (almost).  In my superiority, I thought I could put an early fright into the students my catching cheaters.  To this end, I made two different versions of each test.  They questions looked the same, but the correct answers were different.  I distributed the two versions of the exam so that students looking to their left or right would be seeing a version of the exam that had correct answers that would be wrong on their version of the exam.  If a student with "Version A" gave correct answers for "Version B" they were obviously cheating.  

    Of course this ruse would only work as long as the students did not catch on to the fact that there were different versions of the exam.  By the time they caught on, I hoped create a fear of getting caught, and a bit of respect.

    I set my trap, and on the first time out I caught three cheaters.  They were caught cold, because their "wrong" answers perfectly matched the "right" answers on the exam of the student seated beside them. 

    Without explaining my "trick" with the test, I privately interviewed each of the three who had copied.  All three confessed when I stated for a fact that I knew they had copied answers.  I told them that they would receive an "F" on the critical exam and that their semester grades would reflect the "F".  All seemed to accept my decision, and two seemed relieved that I wasn't reporting them to the Principal or their parents.  Then I spoke with each of the students whose answers had been copied, attempting to gauge their participation in the cheating.  

    The reaction of the third, an extremely mature young woman, and an excellent student, shocked me.  Anger burned in her eyes as she addressed me.  "Do you know what you have done?" she asked, her rage overcoming her usual respect for our positions as teacher and student.  Evidently my face reflected my surprise.  She raged on.  "He has dropped out of school," she said.  "He just quit.  He said it was hopeless now, and he just quit."  She didn't stop, but continued.

    "His Dad died last year.  He was always an average student, but after his Dad died, he got an evening job to help his Mother.  He failed freshman English, and had to repeat it.   The night before your test he came home and his mother was sick.  He took her to the hospital, and then fed and took care of his brothers and sister.  He didn't have time to study for the damn test.  I let him copy, and you can fail me for it.  But now he has dropped out of school; says there is no way he can graduate with the rest of us, so why try."  She looked at me with bitterness, and said, "Well, you caught us.  Does that make you happy?" 

    That was 62 years ago, and I have had 62 years to think on the harm my ignorance and arrogance caused.  The sins of the teachers are indeed visited on their students.