We had a substitute in health class. It was Miss Baer. This woman was the stuff of legends. At least in my family. For years, I had heard horror stories about this woman, and how flatly unjust she had been - especially to Greek kids. My Theia Mimi relayed how Miss Baer was always old, even when she taught at Bingham in the 1930s and '40s. Back then the school kids sung a little ditty about her:
Old Lady Baer, Old Lady Baer
Pulling up her stockings and pinning up her hair.
So on that fateful day, four of us conspired to commit the crime of the century. When roll call was taken, we answered to each others name. Four felons pretending to be someone else for 50 minutes.
When the bell rang and we left the class room, we were convinced we had committed the perfect crime. Or had we? Unbeknownst to us, a girl - clearly not one of the cool people - stayed behind...
Later that afternoon, as I sat in my last class of the day, my name was called over the intercom, summoning me to the office. For the life of me, I couldn't imagine what I'd done wrong.
When I arrived in the office, a vice principal escorted me to a small conference room where Miss Baer sat at a round table, patiently waiting. He asked if I was the person she was after. At first she was confused; the face and name didn't match up but she nodded, quickly remembering the rouse.
For the next 10 or 15 minutes I was subjected to a lecture about respect for others and myself. I was forced - under duress - to admit that our shenanigans hadn't been very nice.
She went on for quite a while. I was beginning to think that although she probably didn't have anywhere to go, I really wanted to get home. Eventually, after what seemed an eternity, I was released back to my class, moments before the bell rang.
That night at dinner, I finally fessed up to my parents. I started by telling them that I had been called to the principal's, that I'd been in trouble. Naturally, they were concerned. I could feel the anger coming. I told them about swapping names in class to mess with a substitute.
I prepared to get a chewing out from my dad. I was psyching myself up to hear phrases like, "expect more from you," "very disappointing," and "you know better than that." But just as both my parents were about to launch into their tirades, I added, "The substitute was Miss Baer."
My father's demeanor changed in a flash. Oh he was angry, but not at me, he was angry at the injustice brought down on his family name! Of course she could only remember one of the names! She held a biased grudge against our family! The woman hated Greeks!
What I had expected to be my prosecution quickly turned into an advocacy of my innocence so impassioned that it would've made Perry Mason himself cry!
He even called his siblings to tell them of the unjust vendetta against our family perpetrated against his son.
By the end of the evening, much to my mother's confusion, the focus had been shifted from my juvenile prank to Miss Baer's demagoguery.
Upon hearing the news straight from my lips, my aunts agreed that what I had done wasn't very nice, but her behavior - not mine - was inappropriate. They almost looked at it as a right of passage - one I passed with flying colors.
I'll tell you what, though, even with all the support from my family and their revisionist view of the events, during the 2 or 3 dozen times Miss Baer was my substitute in the future, I never - not once - misbehaved in her class again.
No comments:
Post a Comment