Every 50 minutes, for seven hours a day, five days a week, students would shuffle in and out of his classroom. He made a point to know each one by name, as well as their story. Rich kids and poor kids were all meshed together. They covered all cultures, from Goth to Prep. He treated them all the same, and with as much respect as they deserved. High school was hard enough without having overbearing teachers.
Like many other teachers, he had an open door policy. He arrived early and stayed late just to make sure that nobody was left behind. Â
He kept the same routine for 30-some-odd years. When he started, things were very different. Kids would stop by all the time to ask for help, or sometimes just to say hi. He would pass them in the hallways and they always gave him respect. Now, he had to contend with smart phones and smart mouths. They would still stop by, but only to try to bribe him into changing their grades. The respect was gone and he was looking at retirement.
One of the last students he helped was a girl who had a troubled home life. She was a sophomore, but only barely. They almost held her back her freshman year. For half the semester, he worked with her on reading, writing, and critical thinking. She was doing well, and he was proud of her progress. Often, there were others who stayed after school, whom he helped, but he was able to make the most progress with her.Â
Maybe it was too early for retirement. Maybe he still had a few good years in him, yet.Â
That was one of his final thoughts before his life ended. He just didn’t know it was the end. Not just yet.
She hadn’t shown up for several days, but that was normal. Her mother was gone, and all she had was an abusive father. If he got too high or drunk, then she would have to take care of him. When that happened, she could be out for a week or more.
This time was different. When she did come back, she wasn’t herself. She was distant, and had an almost vacant look about her. He asked if she was going to come after class but she ignored him. Â
A few hours later, he was asked to go to the principals office. He did. He wasn’t surprised that the superintendent and a local police officer was there. He figured it had something to do with her. “It’s about time,” he thought. As much as he hated when Family Services got involved, he hoped that she would be given a safe home, and that the father would be hauled away.
He was still thinking that when the officer grabbed him by the shoulder, turned him around, and told him that he was under arrest. The handcuffs were put on too tight, and he could feel the eyes of the students watching as he was escorted out.
It took three weeks for him to learn what happened.Â
The girl’s father, in a drunken rage, accused her of sleeping with the teacher to get good grades. He threw her down and threatened her, then didn’t allow her to return to school until it was taken care of.Â
Her father told the police that he had raped her and probably got her pregnant. She was too scared to deny the accusation, so now he’s officially retired. It was her word against his, and everyone saw them together, alone. It was a straightforward case; one that put an innocent man in prison.Â
He will be serving 34 years. He’s just a couple years shy of turning 70. The chance he will ever see the outside again is almost nonexistent. This was not how he pictured retirement.
