Confessions of a Catholic Teacher in a Public School

Signs carried by pro-union Leftists
at Madison, WI rally advocated rape
of conservative women

At a very young age, I used to go to school with him[his father, a public school teacher] - sit in the back of his class and do puzzles, color pictures, etc. In hind sight, I don’t know whether it was on my own days off of school (I was in Catholic school at the time) or what; but I distinctly remember going. One winter morning, I asked if I could go, and for the first time he said, “No. It isn’t safe.” My mom tried to explain to me later what a “strike” meant; none of it made sense to a five-year-old. In the end, she resorted to telling me what was “not safe” about going in. You see, my father was one of a handful of teachers that crossed the line. Every day when he went to school, they would shout, often profanity - things a five-year-old should not have to hear. It was not uncommon to have things thrown at the car - things a five-year-old should not have to see.

At the hight of the strike, a friend of the family drove up our driveway and blew out a tire on bent nails that had appeared overnight. Every morning, my father would go out and make sure there weren’t any more. Mom was afraid that us kids would find and get hurt playing with them. I don’t know if my parents tried to hide these things from us, but we knew. At least, I knew. Before we left for Florida on spring break, my parents received an anonymous phone call threatening: “We know you’re going to be away for a while. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of your house.”

After the strike was over, there were those who continued to yell, telling my father that he would “never be anything in this district,” and that they hope he “enjoys the raise they got him.” The raise amounted to a couple hundred dollars a year. Year later, there were people who wouldn’t look him in the eye. When our family finally moved into the district and we kids attended the schools, there were teachers who were deliberately unfair to me - even at a young age I knew it.

During the entire course of events, my father never spoke much. I asked him years later why he crossed the line. I wan’t questioning, mind you; somehow I knew what he did was the right thing. I simply wanted to hear what he had to say. He told me in no uncertain terms. “I thought we made enough money, and I didn’t think my students should be without their teacher.”

full article at Roma locuta est

HT Kim