I was showing my Freshmen one of my favorite movies—Dead Poets Society—as an introduction to our unit on creative writing.
During one of their meetings in the cave, one of the boys takes out a dirty magazine.
I’m standing at the back of the class, engrossed in the movie, and then—
Boobs on the screen.
Should’ve previewed the movie.
Since when did Dead Poets Society have boobs on the screen?
I race to the front of the room trying to block everyone’s view with my body. The boys have their eyes glued on the screen—they’ve never paid such good attention. The girls passed around nervous laughter. They all have the same look on their faces that says, “Hee hee…what’s happening? Is this okay? Hee Hee.”
No, all you sweet, innocent children. It’s not okay. Your teacher is an amateur. He wanted to get every conceivable mistake out of the way his first year, so that he could relax for the rest of his career.