I was just thinking about a few things.
I have been thinking about all of the suck ass teachers I had growing up in Prince Georges County, Maryland. My first grade teacher taught me to read and she was super cool to me because I was a big crybaby who thought that I would be late for the bus everyday. Second through sixth grade were a blur of no learning whatsoever. My sixth grade teacher was legitimately a fruitcake . I learned nothing in that nut's class. She was good at kicking me off of the Safety Patrols for getting out of my seat and wearing those huge granny panties that we all laughed at.
How about the science teacher at Buck Lodge Junior High who used to just put his head down onto the desk during class? He did chime in to tell us that you could buy a case of beer for what a dime bag of weed costs. Nice. Or the Vice Principal who loved you as long as you gave her fat ass some of your chips so that she could suck the salt off of them ? One night, somebody wrote her name in big letters on the front of the school and also wrote that she was great at oral sex. Of course, there was the the obligatory bong painted also, with the PG COUNTY expression, "Do Bong, Live Long!"In Adelphi, Maryland, a bong was ever present.
And then there was the Physical Education teacher in high school who just used to roll the ball out and sit down. And the science teacher who just talked about fishing.
I had two good teachers. Mrs. Palmer for History in High School and Mrs. Tillery for Algebra in summer school before my senior year. Everyone else? NOPE.
And then I have been thinking about anybody that did me wrong when I was a bright-eyed little kid, hair parted on the side, smile on my face, little cherub. My sister is three years older than me and took me everywhere with her and her long- haired, skinny, non athletic, cutoff jean wearing, Marlboro Light smoking, non shower taking, 7-11 on Riggs Road hanging out, LOSER friends used to pick on me.
I still remember all of their names. Lawrence? Ronnie? I should come find you on skid row somewhere or in a bar in Beltsville or Laurel or Elkridge and show you how you hurt my feelings. I tell you what, though: Those kids picking on me made me feel something inside, or develop something inside that wasn't there before. I am not nor have I ever claimed to be a badass, but those experiences made me vow to never go to bed at night when someone has slighted me without confronting and solving , at least to some extent, the issue.
Call everyone on everything. I always attempt to watch my step and choose my words carefully and respect everyone, lest I piss someone off and we have a confrontation . I expect everyone to do the same. Unfortunately, some folks haven't read the rule book. Is all of this good or bad? Not sure, but it got developed by those early years.
Anyway, I was just thinking.