(Non-Entry) Mr. Ogeltree

Discussion in 'KAW 12' started by A_GIRL_NAMED_SAM, Oct 3, 2018.

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  1. A_GIRL_NAMED_SAM

    A_GIRL_NAMED_SAM Tom's Blonde Soulmate CAW Winner KAW Winner

    by A_GIRL_NAMED_SAM

    This story is partly true, partly pure fiction. The names have been changed, the location has been changed, some of the events have been altered to give the story some credence. Was I actually that cruel? Yes. I admit it. I'm sorry for what I did and, sometimes in those small hours of the night, I wake up as my sub-conscious mind pushes these events forward for me to mull over, thinking about what a little fool I was back then. Before you read any further, there are no lurid sex scenes here. Actually, I'm not sorry for anything I've ever done sexually since just about everything meaningful has been with only one man, my husband, the one man I love with all my heart! But, here goes.

    Thanks to private schools and a college professor for a mother, I was a 14 (going on 15) year old girl, and already a junior in a private all-girls high school. I was in classes with a bunch of 16 and 17-year-olds and was the 'odd one', to be sure. No friends, certainly no boyfriend, very little in the boob department (my training bra was stuffed with tissues!), and had just only recently started getting my period. Stringy blonde hair, worn in pigtails with bows at the ends, a few pimples here and there, glasses, knobby knees, clumsy as hell and still getting used to being something other than a Tom Boy! Our school uniform was a white blouse with a black flip tie, black knee socks and black shoes. A plaid jumper, which was way too big for me, even in the extra small size, completed the outfit. I always thought it made me look like I was wearing my older sisters hand-me-downs, and I didn't even have an older sister. Yes, a sure winner in the 'social success' sweepstakes, that was me!

    My grades were another matter. They were among the highest in school history in everything from math to science, but I really excelled in World History, a subject I loved! It was no coincidence that Mom was a professor of World History at a local university and had drilled me on every era. Want to know the first 5 Pharaohs of Dynasty I of the Old Kingdom of Ancient Egypt? I could rattle them off without a hitch. Need to know the first 10 Emperors of Ancient Rome? Got those down pat by 4th grade! How about a list in chronological order of the Great Kings of the Persian Empire? Sure, that was easy! Want any facts pertaining to the 'Silk Road' and it's influence on Western civilization? Right at my fingertips! Mom not only trained me in 'facts', she trained me to think analytically, connecting facts to reach conclusions, to see trends and patterns between events in the past..

    This brings us to Mrs. Kavinaugh, a thoroughly disagreeable person and a teacher of less than stellar quality. She was the bane of my juvenile existence. You see, Mrs. Kavinaugh taught World History, but she didn't really know much about it. She would assign readings in the textbooks and then teach pretty much the opposite of what was printed therein. She also ran her class in much the same way as I imagined an instructor in a KGB institution in the Soviet Union taught new agents – with an iron fist. One didn't disagree with her or one found oneself on a trip to the dreaded Principles Office, a trip I became VERY familiar with while subject to her rather capricious form of teaching and the bending and blending of fact with fiction!

    One day, she actually told us that Plato was an outstanding Roman philosopher, and lived at the same time as Cicero! I had the temerity to correct her and made yet another trip down that long hall, to receive yet another sad look from our long-suffering Principal and a plea to 'please just try to get along with her?' I sometimes wondered just what hold she had over him and the Board of Trustees! To have a teacher like her at a school with such high academic standards was a fact I could never comprehend! I figured it had to have been something that dealt with bestiality – like a group photo of them all having sex with a goat! Since the Principle and Trustees were all as fricken old as the hills, nothing else made sense!

    Well, one fine spring day, it was proven (at least to my satisfaction) that there is a God and that He sometimes does take pity on poor girls who are afflicted with the likes of Mrs. Kavinaugh! Through a series of misfortunes, she fell off the porch at her home and broke her left leg. When I heard this news, some very unchristian thoughts ran through my head, to wit, I'll bet she was drunk! followed by, Too bad it wasn't her neck! You see, I REALLY disliked this woman!

    I was after all a 14-year-old girl who had been dealing with this situation since I was skipped forward by two grades in grammar school. It always felt as though I had been thrust into a world that not only didn't want to actually 'see' me, and where I was resented for being smarter than the older girls, but I also had to deal with a teacher in my very favorite subject that didn't seem to know as much as I did! Now, couple this with my growing need for some type of acceptance and you have the makings of a major disaster for the said 14-year-old girl!

    Enter Mr. Ogeltree. He was the substitute teacher who replaced our less than loved Mrs. Kavinaugh for the duration of the term, which had all of nine weeks to run. Thank the Lord! I thought I don't have to deal with that woman again! Mrs. Kavinaugh only taught 11th grade. I would be a senior next year and she would be out of my life forever, or so I hoped!

    We quickly found out that Mr. Ogeltree was pretty much the exact opposite of Mrs. Kavinaugh. He encouraged us to express our views and question his interpretation of the facts as presented by the textbooks. The only caveat was that we needed to back up any statement with facts, provable facts! Now, to the vast majority of the class, this was a non-starter. They couldn't care less about World History and wouldn't know where to start to question anything in the textbooks or how to prove their statements if they cared to make them. Hell, most of them had trouble staying awake for the hour and a half of the class!

    But, you guessed it! The little funny looking blonde 'baby' who sat in the front row and had all the answers to every question and aced every test just loved this! Where Mrs. Kavinaugh treated us all equally to her own brand of contempt, with no distinction for those who were eager to learn and participate in a meaningful discussion of history, Mr. Ogeltree encouraged us to ask questions and to investigate the past. Where Mrs. Kavinaugh would tolerate no discussion, no deviation from her view of history, which was very often mistaken and, at best, ill-informed, Mr. Ogeltree provided the basis for us to research and the forum to present our ideas. Sadly, very few choose to take advantage of this opportunity and, when someone did, there was a collective groan from the 'dullards' (as I thought of them) who always managed to sit in the back of the room.

    Let me now describe Mr. Ogeltree, at least as I remember him. He was very short, probably no more than 5 feet, 4 inches tall, balding, in his mid-thirties, rather on the heavy side and always wore a brown, three-piece suit, a white shirt, a striped tie, and thick-soled shoes. His gait was more of a waddle than a walk, as he would rock from side to side. I didn't know it at the time but later found out that he had been in an auto accident which damaged his spine, giving him that weird means of locomotion. He wore thick glasses which served to magnify his rather weak light blue eyes. I'm sure he smoked a pipe as he always smelled faintly of tobacco smoke. He was unmarried, at least as far as I knew, and never wore any kind of jewelry. In short, Mr. Ogeltree was the perfect person to be the butt of any number of cruel jokes, which the fertile minds of 16 or 17-year-old harpies could invent at the drop of a hat!

    Many of these jokes and jibs were hurtful in the extreme. I'm pretty sure Mr. Ogeltree knew he was being made fun of behind his back, but he never reacted when something was whispered in the back of the room and a group of girls would burst out laughing right in the middle of his lecture. On he would press, reminding me of a picture I once saw of Sir Francis Drake's ship, the Golden Hinde as she rounded Cape Horn on his way to the Pacific. He would press on, making what headway he could with a room full of bored, uncaring students who were more concerned with what they were going to wear to the junior prom, or who was getting banged by the local public school football team captain than the outcome of Napoleon's retreat from Moscow!

    My locker was right outside Mr. Ogeltree' classroom door, in a line with several of my classmates. When they opened their locker, one could see pictures of their latest heartthrob or group pictures from their last pool party. My locker door was festooned with little sticky notes from Mom which often read, "Samantha, don't forget your retainer like you did last week!", or "Did you remember to pack extra sanitary pads? I don't want to have to bring them to you again!" After they saw some of these notes, of course, the older girls tried to make me the butt of their jokes, but I was so used to it that I didn't react in any way. As the scriptures said, "I set my face as flint". They soon gave up on me as a lost cause, especially after Mr. Ogeltree came on the scene. He was a much larger target than 'the goofy little dumb-ass baby (as they called me) in the front of the room'! Not that it stopped them completely. I still took abuse from time to time.

    Over the course of the next month, I developed a kind of relationship with Mr. Ogeltree. Nothing sexual or anything physical, you understand, just one that made me see a mentor in him and, I like to think, let him see an avid mind in me. He knew my mother and admired her work. He had met her at several conferences and symposiums over the years. I asked my parents if we could invite Mr. Ogeltree over for dinner sometime and they agreed. He accepted and, over the course of the next month he had dinner with our family several times. I remember these as very instructive conversations and we spent quite a few hours going over various periods of history, Mom, Mr. Ogeltree and me. It was very stimulating, at least for a 14-year-old with limited views of the real world, but a grasp of history that, as he said, was unlike any that he had ever seen. As his class was the last for my day, I usually stayed late to talk with him, knowing I could catch the late bus back home. My parents signed off on this and the school allowed it.

    One day, towards the end of the term, I was subjected to a particularly grueling insult session in the hallway when somehow the group of harpies I called 'classmates' found out that Mr. Ogeltree had dinner on a few occasions at my house. The implications were flying around school that I was 'fucking the dwarf' (as they called him). They wanted to know if I liked his cock in my mouth or my ass. As usual, I put on my 'flint face' and ignored them, just staring them down. They laughed and went on their merry way, looking back over a shoulder to see if I was going to break down. Yeah. Like that was going to happen! I hope you all get knocked up and have to drop out of school! I thought. I'll see you flipping burgers at the Dairy Queen sometime in the future! Or even better, ringing up items at the Dollar Store!

    OK, so the stage is set. I think you can see where this was going.

    I had to make a decision here. Either I broke away from Mr. Ogeltree or, if I chose not to do that, I would continue to be the butt of this group's nasty comments and jokes, which would only get worse for the rest of this term and on into my senior year. Would I rather be the outcast with a growing unearned reputation as a slut or just the 'goofy little dumb-ass' in the front of the room that they could go back to safely ignoring, even as they resented and, often as not, heaped abuse on me? This would restore the status quo to what it was before Mr. Ogeltree came on the scene. There was also the implications for Mr. Ogeltree's reputation. That had to play a part in any decision I made.

    There was another choice here. I could pick the biggest and meanest of the nasty harpies, wait for her to make a comment, smile sweetly, haul off and punch her in the face. Now, as enticing as that sounded I knew, for sure, that this alternative would earn me a one-way ticket out of the school and I would then be consigned to 'public school hell'! With my grades, test scores and transcript, they would probably shove me halfway through my senior year! There, instead of being mixed in with 18 to 19-year-old girls, I would be a 15 year old mixed in with 18 to 19-year-old guys and girls! Add the fact that I would have been expelled from a prestigious private school (a black mark on my permanent record!), one my parents had to fight to get me into and which cost almost as much each year as the new car they needed! Hum, this option, while it looked good, and would feel so right (as I dropped her like a 50-pound sack of potatoes off the back of my aunt's pickup truck!) was beginning to look like a loser!

    I decided to cut and run from Mr. Ogeltree. I started that very day.

    He usually started his lectures by asking a question on our interpretation of the material in the assigned reading. He would then use the correct answers provided by those in the class who responded to expand on the topic, a technique I found both informative and entertaining. There were two other students in the class that I knew studied the material and would try to answer the question and sometimes got it right. I had tried to make friends with them but was rebuffed as they considered me way too young to associate with. Too bad! They seemed nice., I thought at the time. Today, Mr. Ogeltree started as usual, with a question that was so simple I had the answer before he finished speaking (I believe it was something about the social impact of the Hundred Years War). He would then ask if anyone had anything to contribute.

    In the past, the three of us would raise our hand. The remainder of the class, those sitting towards the back of the room, passing notes, whispering their snide little comments and giggling at each other's wit, never contributed anything and I don't believe he even looked their way anymore. He would pick one of us and we would answer. If the first person got it right, on he would go into his lecture. If the answer was wrong or incomplete, he would say something like "Yes, that's part of it, but there may be more" or something along those lines and move on to the next person. Usually, I was the last one he would call on if the other two had left out something he wanted to bring to the fore.

    Today, I didn't raise my hand. I put the same 'face of flint' on that I used with the nasty harpies and just stared at him. He looked puzzled, called on the other two. He got incomplete answers, but I wouldn't raise my hand. Did I know the answer? Yes, but I wasn't going to give in to temptation! He started his lecture and I just sat there, no comment, no reaction. At the end of the lesson, everyone got up to leave, myself included. As I headed for the door, joining the mob rush to get out of there, he called, "Ms. Adamson. Would you please wait?"

    I turned and shook my head. "I'm sorry, I have to be somewhere important," I said, as loudly as I could. His face first took on a look of shock, then shifted to one of disappointment. I knew he sensed that this was the end of our friendly relationship and of those chats we both so enjoyed.

    For the next four weeks, until the end of the term, I only spoke to him once more. I never volunteered an answer to a question. I never contributed anything to his class. He never knew the reason for my break. I continued to ace every test. He tried, on several occasion, to talk to me. I avoided him every time, finally telling him I had nothing to say to him. The look on his face was of utter bafflement and disappointment. I felt terrible but was too far down this path to stop and explain. The harpies overheard this and tried to make something out of nothing and, when I went on ignoring their taunts and slurs, they finally gave up. I at least accomplished that.

    For the final exam, I completed all 120 questions and two required essays in less than 20 minutes with, I was absolutly certain, all answered correctly. When I walked up to the proctors' desk to hand in my test paper, she asked me if I had a question.

    "No, mam, I'm finished", I said.

    “Too tough for you?” she asked.

    “No, mam. I answered all the questions and completed the essays. I believe they're all correct.” I answered her.

    “Oh! You must be Ms. Adamson!” she exclaimed. “I've heard about you! I know your Mom! You'll probably be in my World History class next year! I teach 12th grade! I'm so looking forward to it!”

    Oh, Lord! Just what I needed! Another teacher who decided to join the 'Samantha Adamson Fan Club'! I smiled and got out of there as quickly as I could, just knowing the harpies in the back of the room were snickering over yet another barb to sling my way come September!

    Well, they say that you always have 20/20 vision when you look at things in hindsight. To this day, I regret what I did to a very decent, understanding, highly competent and motivating teacher. For a person as smart and intelligent as I was supposed to be, as I think back on it I realize I handled it very, very badly. The only excuse I can give (and it's not a very good one) was that I was 14 years old and thrust into something I never expected to have to handle. Sure, I could deal with 'classmates' and their stupid and cruel comments, but not with the sexual innuendos and impact on whatever reputation I had. Not to mention the impact on Mr. Ogeltree's teaching career.

    What would I do differently? Well, back then, we didn't have the concept of 'bullying' to throw around, so going to anyone in authority was a waste of time and effort. The phrases 'suck it up' and 'the world is a cruel place – deal with it' come to mind. I could have involved my parents, but that option would have made me look even more like a 'baby' to the harpies. Lastly, I could have exercised the final option, but that had so many downsides that it was a non-starter! I needed to finish high school here to have an opportunity for the full ride academic scholarship that I eventually got to a highly rated college.

    No, I needed to confront the harpies and let them know what I stood for, that Mr. Ogeltree was a far better teacher than they deserved. I should have told him why I needed to put distance between us, that the slurs and lies they were spreading through the school put not only my reputation in jeopardy but his as well and he had so much more to lose than I did! A teacher who had the reputation of consorting with a student, especially one as young as I was, not only risked his current job, but any opportunity for further employment anywhere! And, of course, possible legal trouble for, as we all know, it doesn't take much to invoke the power of the law – justified or not!

    That's what I should have done. To my shame, I did not do this. I ran. It's a lesson I never forgot.
     
    Last edited: Oct 23, 2018
  2. Lo Ro

    Lo Ro Well-Known Member

    wow this is a touching story and though the lesson was learned it sucks that it had to be learned in this way.....it sucks even more that bullies (whether termed that or not) have the power to effect someone so much....though your decision was a tough one, in the end it was the right one for the reasons you listed, and I think maybe seeing how the year was over you should have talk to him and explained yourself but it sounds like you never got the chance and the damage had already been done
     
    Little Miss K and bistander like this.
  3. RedCzar

    RedCzar Well-Known Member 2-Time KAW Winner

    Your locker was right outside his classroom, he knew exactly why you pulled away. Teachers hear everything. They may not be able to do anything about it, but they hear it. He was more likely disappointed to see a brilliant young mind forced to pass up and opportunity to expand itself because of a bunch of high school bimbos. And of course, you forgot the option of starting some of your own rumors about the harpies. All lesbians. everyone of them. Wet for each other all day every day, that's why they're never apart. I'm sure that would not have gone over well at that prestigious little school. (yes I know, even if you weren't found out they would have blamed you for starting it and tortured you all the more for it). Sigh.
    Bottom line... High School really sucks.
     
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  4. bistander

    bistander Well-Known Member Multi-CAW Finalist KAW Winner

    Great story with a great morale. I'm sure we can all relate from one side or the other to some degree. I didn't find any error, and I don't have any suggestions, other than, I think you meant bane not ban.

    My only other comment is, this line:
    Sent my brain right to:
    Everybody's doing a brand-new dance, now
    (Come on baby, do the loco-motion)
    I know you'll get to like it if you give it a chance now
    (Come on baby, do the loco-motion)

     
    Little Miss K and Lo Ro like this.
  5. Little Miss K

    Little Miss K Naughty but Nice 3-Time CAW Winner CAW SS Winner

    Ahhhh High school. :rolleyes:

    There were some little typos, easy to miss. (Mrs Kavinagh fell off the pouch. :)) But then you made a common mistake that drives me crazy...

    Rrrrrrrrr:mad:. If they could care less, then they cared a little. It should be couldn't care less. (This is my pet peeve.) :):):)

    I had many teachers that fit in to the Mrs Kavinagh mold. It drove me crazy when I felt that I knew more than they did, and I couldn't believe it when the real answer was right there in the book, and they would blatantly disregard it. :mad:


    This reminds me of my best friend. She is so exceptionally intelligent that many teachers would ask her questions when they themselves did not have an answer. If it hadn't have been for her, I never would have made it through. She was never bullied, everyone was scared to be on the receiving end of her brilliant sarcastic wit. Even if she had been, it would never bother her. I wish she could have been there to help you out. Dang I miss her. I'm going to call her tonight and tell her how much I love her. :)

    Thank you for all the memories that this brought me. Some bad ones, but so many joyfull ones as well. :D:):D
     
    bistander and Lo Ro like this.
  6. Uncle B

    Uncle B Well-Known Member 3-Time CAW Winner

    So maybe I was never a high school girl, but on a good day I can remember way back when I was high school boy. There were many teachers who I hated, but a few that I really liked. In fact, there are 2 that I am still in contact with, and one of them I see on a fairly regular basis. It's kind of funny when you can buy a former teacher a drink and talk about the old times.

    It's too bad that you couldn't reconnect and smooth over some of the things that happened.
     

  7. I think your word choice of "comporting" was unsound. They were saying a good deal more than you were just agreeing with one another.
     
  8. It's never too late unless one of you crosses the Rainbow Bridge.