On their last day in the school that had been their world for so many years, the outgoing 10th-grade girls of a downtown high school chose to arrange their own modest celebration, a departure from the usual send-off by their juniors. Though exams still loomed, they gathered to mark the end of an era in the school that had shaped them from small children into young women. Behind their fake smile and laughter, a quiet sorrow crept in, and many found themselves in tears.
For these girls, it was a farewell not only to their school but also to a chapter of their lives that had held both dreams and challenges, each carrying silent hopes for the days beyond. Instead of finding role models to offer them support, many of the teachers—though not all—came across as the girls’ most despised antagonists on that fateful day. They simply chose to stay away from the festivity.
Best known for her book, “The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod series, the American author Heather Brewer, aka Zac Brewer,” writes: “Because teachers, no matter how kind, no matter how friendly, are sadistic and evil to the core.”
It seems Brewer doesn’t truly view teachers as “sadistic” or “evil” by nature, but as a teacher myself, I can very well relate to her statement. It likely uses humour and exaggeration to capture a character’s frustration and rebellious spirit, something many teenagers experience. This kind of language resonates with young students, who often see teachers as authority figures responsible for enforcing rules and discipline.
Whatever the case may be, based on my own experience of having served as a teacher for well over 35 years, I can say with absolute confidence that teachers—though perhaps not all—often fall into the category of being sadistic and, at times, even evil. I don’t feel the need to substantiate this statement because I myself am a classic example of such behavior. In my early days as a teacher, I believed corporal punishment was almost a divine right and would often discipline my students harshly, even resorting to physical punishment.
Moreover, my behavior toward my female students was often inappropriate, and I occasionally showed favoritism, neglecting others who genuinely needed and deserved more attention than those I chose to support.
In a nutshell, I was a bad teacher from the very beginning, someone who didn’t deserve to be in this profession at all. It took me decades to learn the proper etiquette of being a good teacher—all thanks to a few students whose unconditional love and affection helped me turn things around and truly start behaving as a teacher. Sadly, all of this happened at a time when my tenure as a teacher is coming to an end in just a few days, making this farewell my own personal goodbye in its own way.
Back to the farewell, the atmosphere in the school was thick with tension. The juniors were left feeling isolated and bewildered, while the seniors were even more lost in their confusion. Some teachers had subtly encouraged certain students to distance themselves from the celebration, sparking an outburst of disorder that spread throughout the campus.
The chaos was palpable, with voices rising and emotions running high. For the room’s decorations, the students had chosen black and white balloons. While the white ones seemed to offer no commentary, the black ones spoke volumes, silently capturing the turmoil that had unfolded. In what felt like an act of sabotage, the single lamp meant to illuminate the room suddenly failed to function, plunging everything into darkness and intensifying the somber mood that would forever define this farewell.
To bring some semblance of normalcy to the situation, the headmaster suggested inviting the juniors to join the cake-cutting ceremony in an effort to dispel the negativity that had built up throughout the day. As if under the influence of some dark magic, the students had to be physically dragged into the celebration. Some seniors refused to engage with them, leaving everyone in stunned silence.
By sheer coincidence, the knife chosen to cut the cake resembled a butcher’s blade, ready to slit an animal’s throat. The cake was finally cut. It was at that moment that some students could no longer hold back their tears; they broke down as if a dam had been struck by an earthquake, unleashing all the pent-up emotions it had contained for so long.
The highlight of the occasion was the gift exchange, where students presented thoughtful tokens to their teachers. The headmaster received a beautiful shawl, while the teachers were each given personalized prayer mats, inscribed with their names. However, the students’ generosity far surpassed that of the teachers when those who had refused to participate in the farewell also declined the gifts. Such a waste! The prayer mats, with the names of their intended recipients written on them, would remain forever unused, as no one took them on a day when teachers were expected to open their hearts to students who had insulted and humiliated them repeatedly during their time at the school.
A lone male teacher stood as a beacon of warmth, offering personalized blessings to each student. His thoughtful gesture left the more begrudging teachers red-faced, exposed by his generosity.
The dispersal was as chaotic as the gathering. The students would never return to the school again, yet their departure spoke volumes: it was the role models who had failed them, regardless of the exam results that awaited them in a few months.
- Disclaimer: Views expressed are the author’s own.
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