Behind the Ironic Column

I don’t usually dream about high school.  It was interesting and sometimes fun, but sometimes sheer hell.  Just like everybody’s memories of high school, I suppose.  Mine was a small school in a small town, but I’m not sure that made us any stranger than anybody else. Although perhaps we were more naive — or at least I was. 

For whatever reason, one night last week I had a dream that included the woman who was my science teacher freshman year.  She was new to our school, which was in itself a big deal, and drove some 35 miles every morning on mountain roads to get there.  We didn’t think anything about that; it was pretty normal.  And, being a teenager, I expected adults to do those things they had to do and function as teachers.  Whatever they did in their personal life mostly didn’t concern me if I even thought about it at all.  There were teachers, younger ones or ones I had known for years, who had lives I knew about.  It’s hard to miss knowing some extra things about your geometry teacher if he also teaches Sunday School in your church.

In any event, I didn’t know much about this new woman and she hadn’t made a particularly good impression on my classmates.  She was disorganized and we had the feeling she didn’t really know what she was talking about.  One morning I happened to be sitting in the classroom early — she had our homeroom time that year as well as science — and no one else was there yet when she arrived.  It didn’t take me long to notice that she had her dress on inside out — the seams were clearly on the outside.  And in those days there was no fashion that would have accepted that kind of dress in a school teacher. 

I remember wondering why she was dressed that way — before I realized that she didn’t know her clothes were on backward.  I was just about to tell her when she realized it herself.  Her next move was the one that struck me as bizarre, however.  She locked the door to the room so no one could get in and proceeded to undress.  I was astounded.  In my experience, adults did not undress in front of children, even if they were only taking off outer clothing.  They went into another room and shut the door.  This just struck me as another indication that this woman was not suitable material for classroom teaching.  And, indeed, she didn’t last very long.  Sometime during that school year she vanished and a temporary took her place.   We never heard what happened to her.

Now that I’m older than she must have been at the time, I understand that personal issues can cause enough distraction to make someone seem disoriented and disorganized.  And even to make them dress in clothes that are inside out. 

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