I am not currently teaching, but I taught high school Speech and English classes for nine years. As a senior, Charlie was handsome, funny, and athletic, the high school trifecta for popularity. On the last day of school he swung by my classroom to say goodbye.
“Do you remember me as a freshman?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “I don’t think I had you as a student until your sophomore year.”
“Right, but we had a conversation at a dance my freshman year.”
I ran the leadership program and chaperoned many dances. Freak Dancing, otherwise known as grinding, was, and I am sure still is, the dance of choice for Generation Next.
“I was dancing with Sara B.,” he continued with a smile. “You came around and threatened to kick us off the dance floor.”
“Hmm,” I nodded. Frankly, I kicked a lot of kids off the dance floor; it was one of the fun perks of the job.
“When you came around a second time, we were still dancing. You approached us and in your booming, teacher voice you yelled, ‘you cannot rub your penis on a girl at a school-sponsored event!’”
I inhaled loudly, feigning shock and surprise. “I saaaaaid that?”
“Well, did you stop?” I asked.
“Yes,” he laughed. “It was totally embarrassing.”
“Well then I have taught you life’s three most important lessons: how to use a semi-colon, how to prepare a speech, and not to rub your penis on a girl in public. I believe you are ready to graduate, Grasshopper!”