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A quirky, cool teacher
Back in high school, Mr. Izkowitz was a pretty cool English teacher. Upperclassmen who'd previously graced his class often had tales of woe about him. He was strict and his class was often dubbed one of the hardest. Students either loved him or hated him. There was no middle ground.
I often stayed after school for extra help or extra credit and we had great conversations about literature and writing. In those times, I realized he had a wicked sense of humor and was smart as a whip. If I met him today, I'd probably embrace him as a friend.
Now, in high school we had about 5 minutes to get from one class to another. The rush and crush of students was pretty much a claustrophobic experience, but Mr. Itzkowitz also roamed the halls with us as a hall monitor. He never seemed to be in any rush. He just kind of meandered and smiled. Many of the girls waved at him as the boys passed by with a high five.
And there was more than one occasion where I've seen him practically pick up a few boys by the scruff of the neck if they were fighting. Taller than most of the kids, he had wild curly hair, a fat mustache, and a wide, even smile. Come to think of it, he was a bit wild-eyed too; a right quirky fellow.
Some asshole kids
But there was a group of kids - the more popular, rich kids - who liked nothing more than bringing misery to those they felt unworthy of their presence. Okay. They were complete assholes.
Every day they'd toss pennies on the floor and laugh as Mr. Itz smiled widely as if he'd found a precious gem and picked all of them up.
The girls giggled behind their books. "Oh my god, he's such a beggar!"
The boys laughed and called him a dog, tossing pennies or their change from lunch on the floor to see him grovel.
Did I mention they were assholes?
I admit, at the time, I felt like of ashamed of them all. Why did those kids have to be so mean and disrespectful? Why did Mr. Itz take that kind of abuse?
The lesson begins
But, you see, Mr. Itz didn't care what they said about him. He just hummed aloud, smiled, and mosied around picking up coins.
It was getting toward the end of the year and I stayed after school to study for finals when I asked him why he allowed them to be so insolent.
He wiggled his bushy eyebrows and winked. "Ask me tomorrow in class," was all he said.
Being terribly shy at the time, asking the teacher about the pennies in front of the whole class was pretty terrifying.
But the next day came around and there I was sitting in English class. All the hard work was done and we were just reviewing material for the finals. Somehow we got into an open class discussion about the consequences of our actions. That's when he looked my way and winked - the signal to raise my hand and ask the question.
"Yes, Meredith?"
All eyes turned toward me. FUCK! I could feel my entire body flushing with embarrassment.
"Mr. Itz, why do you pick up all the pennies? They're only pennies."
The asshole kids began snickering. Yeah, I had the misfortune of having a lot of them in my class including their ring leader, James.
So he got up from his chair and sat on the front edge of his desk. Casually crossing his feet and arms, he asked in his deep voice, "Class, why would I pick up a penny?"
"Maybe because you're poor."
"Because you need a new shirt?"
Because. Because. Because. Just about everyone had a remark - some nicer than others - but overall, they weren't thinking of his question as one to reflect on, but rather as another tool to tear at him.
One of the snotty girls said, "You can't do anything with a penny."
That's when Mr. Itz got up and went behind his desk, pulling out a 3-gallon water jug from beneath his desk. With a big THUNK, he put it on the desk for all to see. It was FULL of loose change.
"A penny alone might not be worth much, but if you put them all together it's worth a lot more. When you see a penny you might ignore it, but I see Christmas shopping. I stayed up all night counting this." He looked straight at James and said, "I've got over 300 dollars" [sic]
It was my pleasure to see James turn bright red this time.
Eat that, James!
And as the bell rang signaling the end of class, James, surrounded by his cronies whined, "That's my money."
But this time Mr. Itzkowitz spoke up. "Finders keepers. Losers weepers."
Didn't he get the last laugh?
Go on with your bad self, Mr. Itz! You the man.
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Meredith Loughran blogs at ScribblingBandits.com | Follow her on Twitter & SnapChat or LinkedIn