WHY I TEACH-Part 31: It’s Only a Rumor

At the beginning of the new school year, I was on cloud nine. Only one more year of Mr. Myers! The hopes of applying for and getting 107A’s teaching schedule were mere months away. It seemed as if nothing could possibly go wrong. I floated into Mr. B.’s classroom.

“Hello, Mr. B., ready for a new school year?”

Mr. B. frowned. “I’m guessing you haven’t heard.”

I dropped down to cloud 8. “Did something happen?”

“You need to sit,” he said.

I dropped down to cloud 7 as I sat on the top of the desk.

“As you know, I teach summer school.”

I nodded.

“Well, this summer, a group of especially rotten turds started a rumor.”

My eyes locked on his as I dropped down to cloud 6.

“The rumor,” he paused and sucked in a deep breath, “is that they are having sex with you.”

I threw up a bit in my mouth, slid into the desk chair, and fell completely off the cloud.

“You’re kidding? Right?”

He solemnly shook his head.

“Gross, I would never do that. What do I need to do?”

“You need to talk to Myers and let him know it’s just a rumor.”

“Right, like that’s going to help.” I stood and sat back down. “It is just a rumor. It isn’t true. It’ll go away, right?”

Mr. B. patted my hand.

“This is bad,” I said as it hit me.

Mr. B. nodded. “Yes, it’s bad.”

I managed to stand and walk slowly to Mr. Myers’ office. The door was open, so I walked right in.

“I just wanted to let you know there’s a rumor going around that some students are having sex with me.”

“Ha!” Mr. Myers’ laughed. A huge grin plastered his face. “I really wouldn’t worry about it, it’s just a rumor.”

“I want you to know it isn’t true. I’d never do anything like that. I don’t even put myself in any sort of situation like that.”

“Oh, I understand,” he sneered.

“Do I need to do anything?”

As he shook his head, another massive grin appeared on his face. “Don’t worry about it.”

So I didn’t. And it didn’t go away. And it didn’t get better.

One day, I asked Mr. 107A why people believed the rumor. His response was, “the appearance of evil.”

Yet, I wasn’t sure what evil. I’d always made it a rule to never be alone with any student, ever. My classroom didn’t have windows, but it did have an all-seeing camera.

The whispers, the stares, the kids joking in the halls, the strain on my marriage. The entire year blurred.

At the beginning of April, I stood in front of the teachers’ mailboxes. Almost all of them held a bright white envelope. Mine did not. My box held an advertisement for Staples. My contract was not getting renewed.

As I sat across from Mr. Myers the following day, I vaguely remember words like too much risk, bad reputation, and less than stellar performance. I do remember the smug grin on his face as he said all those things.

On Friday, I turned in my letter of resignation, an option he’d given me, to allow me to get another job in the area. So very nice of him.

As the end of the school year approached, I did what I do best: smile and nod and just push on through. Each year, one member of each department had the privilege of attending graduation and walking in the faculty procession. This year, my department picked me. When I went to the main office to pick up my honorary cap and gown, mine wasn’t there.

“Do you know where my cap and gown are?” I asked Mrs. Orian.

She scowled. “Like we’d let you walk with our students.”

I walked back to my classroom and pulled up high school business teacher job postings. I saw the one for 107A and 107B. I went into my office, closed the door, went to the corner, curled into a ball, and sobbed.

At the final faculty meeting of the year, after announcing arrest and pregnancy rates were at an all-time low, Mr. Myers said, “This year, we’ve decided not to do teacher awards. Have a great summer. I’ll be enjoying my retirement.”

I turned in my keys and carried the final box to my car. Mr. B. ran up and bear-hugged me.

“You deserve so much better than this shit-hole of a school,” he said.

Unemployed, disgraced, head so low I couldn’t even see the clouds, I managed a weak smile and told him I’d keep in touch.