Not your Teacher's Pet

NOT YOUR TEACHER'S PET

Chapter 1

It seemed like my entire academic life I was one of those that was the antithesis of all those things teachers liked to tell us. Remember those phrases like "you can't get bad grades in deportment and good grades in other subjects?"

I debunked that myth by about the second grade by never making higher than a C in what used to be called "conduct" but pretty much straight A's in everything else. It drove those wonderful Irish nuns just nuts when they would catch me staring out the window and hit me with a question and I always had the answer. I remember Sister Chris lecturing to us about paying attention in class being a must if we wanted to make good grades. Well, she was a wonderful teacher, but something about her made me never want to look at her, bless her soul. So, she assumed I wasn't paying attention and by about the second month of having her, I had really gotten under her skin because I kept answering the questions and making good grades. This was in spite of the fact that I never seemed to be paying attention. I was undermining the whole basis of a good Catholic education and she started to really not care much for me.

One day she came into the classroom and found me sitting atop these lockers that fit across the outside wall under the windows watching other kids play ball. She came zooming across the room and hollered for me to get down. Well, she scared me so much because I didn't see her coming that I fell out of the open window. Now we were on the first floor, but the way the school was built, it was about a story and a half up. Shortly after I hit the ground, I looked up and saw a look of horror on her face. She must have thought I might be dead or at least seriously hurt. Being pretty quick on the uptake, I didn't move. She said " I'll be right there." As soon as her face disappeared, I jumped up and ran around the building the opposite way from where I knew she would come. By the time she got around the corner and realized I wasn't there, I was back in the classroom looking down at her. Talk about glaring at someone, she was giving me a look as bad as my Mom could when she was really mad at me. I looked down and said "I'm OK Sister Chris." She never was quite as tough on me after that.

Then there's the time in seventh grade when I made my all time favorite nun, Sister Joseph cry...but that's the next chapter.