in Washington anymore.” Mister B isn’t going to be swayed by calling him out or trying to guilt him into doing something he doesn’t want to do. But he does respond to direct appeals to his sense of duty and to country.
“You have the honor, integrity, courage, and selflessness we should demand from our leaders. It is the same qualities the American people complain about politicians lacking. Why not be the candidate they claim to want and see what happens?”
T he entire class is floored. They are riveted by my little speech, and that’s saying something for my AD/HD generation. Our attention span can only be measured in tenths of seconds. Everyone turns their focus back to our teacher who, for perhaps the first time since this class began in September, stands speechless.
When he finally opens his mouth, the words were not exactly what I was expecting. “Clearly, helping you all improve your debate skills this year was a bad idea. But since there is no chance in hell of you guys pulling this off anyway, I’ll take your bet.”
“So you’ll do it?” Emily says. Of course, she was also drowned out by about a dozen others who ask a variation of the same question.
“ Yes, if you all think you are good enough to score an A on the final, I'll do it.”
“ Ha! We are going to smoke this final just to watch Mister B get humiliated on national television!” Vince exclaims, earning him a playful slap on the back of the head from Vanessa.
“Funny, Vince. By the way, how do you all plan on enforcing this bet? You are out of here in a couple of weeks.”
“ Most of us signed up for Contemporary Issues with you next year,” Peyton adds in a matter the fact tone.
“ I must be losing my touch. Didn't you guys get enough abuse?”
“Yeah, but we're sadists,” Vince responds. He’s partially right. The word on the street is that he is much easier on his seniors in that class than his American History students. I am eager to find out whether the rumor is true.
The bell rings to dismiss the class. We pack up our remaining belongings and erupt into a cacophony of conversation as we collectively head toward the door. I am smiling, pleased not only getting him to agree to the bet, but at the prospect of actually forcing him to pay up.
As we start out into the hall, I hear Mister Bennit call out to us. “Hey, let's keep this bet between us. Nobody tells Miss Slater. I don't want to end up on the couch tonight!”
.
-NINE-
MICHAEL
I never make bets with my students. I am not against it in principle, just not of the opinion bribes should be used as a form of motivation. Some teachers swear by these techniques – using bets and bribes to encourage learning. It’s just a tactic I choose not to employ. It is not something Jessica believes in either. Word of this wager will no doubt spread like a California forest fire through the school. I can only hope nobody whispered the news in her ear already.
I park outside my condo, right next to Jessica’s blue Nissan. I had to stay late at school to get some planning done for finals, otherwise I would have beaten her home. I retrieve my trusty old military assault pack from the back seat and head for the front door. The bag has been repurposed from carrying ammunition and the tools of war to books and other various materials of a teacher.
Entering the foyer, I drop my keys in a dish on the small table and look up to see Jessica. She looks sexy standing in the entrance to the living room wearing her workout clothes. “I put an extra blanket and pillow on the couch for you for tonight ... congressman.”
She stalks off down the hall. Uh-oh. I peek into the room and, sure enough, a blanket is folded neatly on one of the cushions with a pillow perched on top. Damn, so much for the class keeping this on the down low. Now it’s time to find out just how much trouble I am in.
“ So, we are skipping the fight and going straight into the consequences?” I ask, and am
“You have the honor, integrity, courage, and selflessness we should demand from our leaders. It is the same qualities the American people complain about politicians lacking. Why not be the candidate they claim to want and see what happens?”
T he entire class is floored. They are riveted by my little speech, and that’s saying something for my AD/HD generation. Our attention span can only be measured in tenths of seconds. Everyone turns their focus back to our teacher who, for perhaps the first time since this class began in September, stands speechless.
When he finally opens his mouth, the words were not exactly what I was expecting. “Clearly, helping you all improve your debate skills this year was a bad idea. But since there is no chance in hell of you guys pulling this off anyway, I’ll take your bet.”
“So you’ll do it?” Emily says. Of course, she was also drowned out by about a dozen others who ask a variation of the same question.
“ Yes, if you all think you are good enough to score an A on the final, I'll do it.”
“ Ha! We are going to smoke this final just to watch Mister B get humiliated on national television!” Vince exclaims, earning him a playful slap on the back of the head from Vanessa.
“Funny, Vince. By the way, how do you all plan on enforcing this bet? You are out of here in a couple of weeks.”
“ Most of us signed up for Contemporary Issues with you next year,” Peyton adds in a matter the fact tone.
“ I must be losing my touch. Didn't you guys get enough abuse?”
“Yeah, but we're sadists,” Vince responds. He’s partially right. The word on the street is that he is much easier on his seniors in that class than his American History students. I am eager to find out whether the rumor is true.
The bell rings to dismiss the class. We pack up our remaining belongings and erupt into a cacophony of conversation as we collectively head toward the door. I am smiling, pleased not only getting him to agree to the bet, but at the prospect of actually forcing him to pay up.
As we start out into the hall, I hear Mister Bennit call out to us. “Hey, let's keep this bet between us. Nobody tells Miss Slater. I don't want to end up on the couch tonight!”
.
-NINE-
MICHAEL
I never make bets with my students. I am not against it in principle, just not of the opinion bribes should be used as a form of motivation. Some teachers swear by these techniques – using bets and bribes to encourage learning. It’s just a tactic I choose not to employ. It is not something Jessica believes in either. Word of this wager will no doubt spread like a California forest fire through the school. I can only hope nobody whispered the news in her ear already.
I park outside my condo, right next to Jessica’s blue Nissan. I had to stay late at school to get some planning done for finals, otherwise I would have beaten her home. I retrieve my trusty old military assault pack from the back seat and head for the front door. The bag has been repurposed from carrying ammunition and the tools of war to books and other various materials of a teacher.
Entering the foyer, I drop my keys in a dish on the small table and look up to see Jessica. She looks sexy standing in the entrance to the living room wearing her workout clothes. “I put an extra blanket and pillow on the couch for you for tonight ... congressman.”
She stalks off down the hall. Uh-oh. I peek into the room and, sure enough, a blanket is folded neatly on one of the cushions with a pillow perched on top. Damn, so much for the class keeping this on the down low. Now it’s time to find out just how much trouble I am in.
“ So, we are skipping the fight and going straight into the consequences?” I ask, and am
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