Substitute accused of walloping 4th-grader

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I left teaching nearly 27 years ago because, admittedly, I couldn’t handle the classroom.  While Easton’s actions are egregious and inexcusable, I commend him for realizing that they were wrong and that his substituting days have ended.  There are some who wouldn’t have such insight.

PART 1. I am acquainted with Harry Easton. He’s a good man. I’m sorry to see him feel a need to genuflect to “the system” in what sounds like an entirely understandable situation.
This tragic story is also educational in that it eloquently demonstrates a huge part of what went wrong with American public “education”: teachers are no longer allowed to control their classrooms.
Humans have sufficient intelligence that, by the time they graduate from high school, every kid should know what a hedgefund manager knows about how to keep wannabe-clever elitists from stealing his (or her) labor. But corporation-owned “gubmint” doesn’t want educated citizens capable of independent thought. As a result, the labor of the productive classes is stolen by Lex-Luthorian global monetary oligarchs — and a constitutionally ineligible man (whose deceased father was a British subject) usurped the office of President despite Article 2, Section 1, Clause 5 of the U.S. Constitution as interpreted by Minor v. Happersett, 88 U.S. 162 (1874).
In 1957, when I was attending 7th grade at GJ Junior High located at 9th & Gunnison (where East Middle School is now), we had the old-fashioned flip-up type desks with ink wells and fold-up seats. We actually used to practice penmanship using pens with nibs we would dip into the inkwells.
One day our teacher, an obese woman named Mrs. Wallace, to whom the kids all referred as “Mrs. Walrus”, sneaked up behind me and knocked me out of the desk and onto the floor by hitting me in the side of the head with a big geography book. I actually saw stars. She thought I had been talking in class, when the guilty party was actually Tex Tolman, the kid sitting in front of me. (Hopefully Tex won’t mind me sharing the story.)
Some of the more rowdy boys would have squirt-gun and rubber-band fights behind Mrs. Wallace’s back when she was writing on the blackboard. When caught, squirt guns were automatically stomped to pieces by “Walrus”, who used to punish rubber band wielders by having the miscreant come to the front of the class and get snapped on the back of the hand with a huge rubber band wielded by “Walrus”. Tex got caught so often the teacher would snap him on the side of his neck where it was tender, just trying to get the message across. It was kind of an exciting test-of-bravery game boys would play, sort of like running the bulls in Spain.
It is the height of idiocy, unproductivity, intellectual dishonesty and systemic scumbaggery to arrest parents or bring charges against teachers for using corporal punishment to control kids, then, when the unruly kid has been allowed to grow into a scary 800-lb gorilla in prison, put a shock belt on him and give the remote controller to some misandristic 120-lb female prison guard.

PART 2. Tex and I both seemed to have turned out not too much the worse for the wear. The old pre-theraputic-society ways were better. More kids got an actual education. There was less illiteracy.
When I was a kid, if you got a spanking at school (kind of a badge of machismo), you didn’t dare tell your parents about it, because you would get a worse spanking at home. Most parents supported teachers in those days. Since then, far too many parents have abrogated their parental responsibilities and allowed government to engage in social engineering and dictate how children should be raised and what they should think. As a direct result, America has become a society of uneducated, out-of-control, self-absorbed wussies who believe they are entitled to steal the “other guy’s” labor via voting and taxation. It’s the fall of the Roman Empire all over again. Those who refuse to learn from history are doomed to repeat it. And the children don’t benefit from the “liberal” lunacy, they just have their labor stolen in ways so complex and subtle they can’t see it.
The best teacher I ever had was my 9th grade English teacher, Mona Rice. Everyday, we had to work on diagramming sentences and copying our own English grammar texts into a spiral notebook. The worst kid in class got a D-. All the kids learned at least a modicum of English grammar. No child was “left behind” in Mrs. Rice’s classes.
Coming right before a school board election, the timing of this story couldn’t be more opportune. I would hope that some of the candidates might stumble across my comments and be reminded of times when public “education” was not an oxymoron.
God bless Harry Easton. To hell with the clueless, politically-correct social engineers who charged him with “child abuse”, thus enabling parental irresponsibility and unruliness in kids at school.
As comedian Dennis Miller said (see, “I’ve had it up to here [gesturing toward his neck] with this PC (expletive). Of course that’s just one man’s opinion, and I could be wrong.

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