Frank McCourt - Teacher Man, part III (Coming Alive in Room 205), 12
[…]
They have ideas I want to dissipate, about the private lives of teacher. I tell them, In your head choose one of your teachers. Don't tell anyone the name. Don't write it down. Now speculate. When that teacher leaves the school every day what does he—or she—do? Where does he go?
You know. After school, teacher goes directly home. Carries a bag filled with papers to be read and marked. Might have a cup of tea with spouse. Oh, no. Teacher would never have a glass of wine. That's not how teachers live. They don't go out. Maybe a movie on the weekend. They have dinner. They put their kids to bed. They watch the news before the settle in for the night to read those papers. At eleven it's time for another cup of tea or a glass of warm milk to help them sleep. Then they put on pajamas, kiss the spouse and drift off.
Teachers' pajamas are always cotton. What would a teacher be doing in silk pajamas? And, no, they never sleep naked. If you suggest nudity students look shocked. Man, can you imagine some teachers in this school naked? That always triggers a big laugh and I wonder if they're sitting there imagining me naked.
What is the last thing teachers think about before sleeping?
Before they drift off, all those teachers, snug and warm in their cotton pajamas, think only of what they might teach tomorrow. Teachers are good, proper, professional, conscientious, and they'd never throw a leg over the other one in the bed. Below the belly button the teacher is dead. […]
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