By Michele Lee
Actually, my post is quite immature, but it is a classroom story that someone needs to tell. Might as well be me, the teacher who lived it. My story has language that would have been inappropriate in my classroom. Good thing we aren’t in the classroom!
What they don’t tell you in teacher school…
Not once in any of my numerous teacher classes, designed to prepare future teachers for the rigors of teaching high school students, did a professor ever say:
“Adolescent boys are quite fascinated with their male parts and have a tendency toward drawing them whenever, wherever, and however they can. They will slip one in on a textbook page, they will attempt to cleverly squeeze one on the whiteboard when your back is turned, and by the way budding teachers, don’t ever turn your back on a teenage pack! They will etch one on their desk, and into posterity their fascination will be admired, until the janitor arrives with a bucket of cleaner, maybe even a sander. Having to scrub another penis sketch, he has grown quite tired.”
An in-tune professor would have added, “Sometimes a young man will get lost in his manly thoughts and doodle one on a class handout before turning it in, then grow stiff and turn beet red when asked by his lady teacher, ‘What is this?’ before shrinking and shriveling back to his desk.”
I had to learn the hard way, lessons about endless penis obsessions located in the developing male brain.
Most encounters with duplicated dicks were ridiculous and distracting, but I did encounter one that was quite clever in its fashion, and had I known the creator of this standout projectile, I would have applauded him (or her) for their crafty style.
All students had departed the room and to my surprise, what did I spy with my little eye…
A paper penis pop-up on the floor. Creased delicately so, as to give it a springy lift from the worn floor. My teacher fan oscillating back and forth, did cause it to sway to and fro. I could not help but laugh, before I crinkled it up and threw it in the trash.
Then I washed my hands.
I wish my professors would have given us a head’s up about the artistic preoccupation of young male pups.