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Wednesday, September 07, 2011

Across The Pond and Beyond: Angie Russell from Home And Away

A lot of people don't seem to understand or realize the amount of power that some teachers possess when it comes to how they handle a classroom filled with kids. Teachers are responsible for providing lesson plans and homework assignments that will enable their students to pass into the next grade, taking them one step closer into adulthood.

I would also like to think that most teachers will do whatever it takes to ensure that every student gets a fair shake in the world, and that they will often sacrifice their time and efforts to ensure that every student gets a chance to succeed. Whether it be staying after class to help a student with a homework assignment, coaching a group of students through a school play, or just being there to listen to a problem that they have, I do believe that most teachers want to make a difference in their students lives both inside and outside of the classroom.

So, what happens when you end up with a teacher that does none of those things? When you have a teacher that picks on you and chooses not to help, but to harm a student? When you have a teacher that saw a student as her own personal cause, or emotionally abuses a student to the point that they don't know what is right or wrong?

Unfortunately, there are some teachers who are like this. Teachers who for whatever reason seem to play favourites, or use their power or tenure in their jobs as an excuse to go after a student for no reason whatsoever.

I know this because I had a teacher that was exactly like this. And I warn ahead of time, when it comes time to talk about my experience, I will not be kind. In fact, it could likely end up being one of my most emotionally charged and heated blog entries to date.

But first, I would like to talk about a fictional teacher who like the one that I'm going to be talking about in this blog did the same exact thing my teacher did to me. She set her sights on a particular student, did everything in her power to emotionally abuse the student, and the end result made the teacher end up looking like public enemy number one.



If anyone had followed this blog from the very early beginnings, you may remember that one of my first entries had to do with the Australian soap opera, Home and Away. I did a sketch on the character of Bobby Simpson, who appeared on the program from 1988-1993. The show is currently still airing on Australia's Seven Network, and this January will celebrate 24 years on the air. During this time, hundreds of new characters have appeared on that program, and quite a few prominent actors and actresses have appeared on that show, including Simon Baker, Naomi Watts, and the late Heath Ledger.

One of the most talked about characters to appear on the program Home and Away only managed to last a little over six months on the program, yet upon her debut in September 2002, became one of the most hated people in the whole town of Summer Bay.

Granted, the actress playing her (Laurie Foell) did such a good job with the role, and was so convincing at it that Australian viewers (as well as this Canadian who watched the storyline on videos posted on video-sharing sites) loved the actress, yet hated the character.



The name of the person is question was Angela Russell, or Angie, as most people called her. Angie was a gorgeous blonde, just entering her 40s, and had just gotten a job at Summer Bay High School. With her teenage son Dylan, things were looking up for Angie, and she thought that she could make a brand new life for herself in Summer Bay.

But hardly anyone ever comes onto a soap opera innocent and pure, now? Do they?

For Angie Russell had a secret. She actually came to Summer Bay looking for her first real love, a man by the name of Rhys Sutherland. She and Rhys had made a pact to be together when both of them turned 40, but unfortunately for her, Rhys had moved on. He married a woman named Shelley, and they had three daughters, Dani, Jade, and Kirsty.



Unbeknownst to everyone except Rhys and Angie, they had a one-night stand with each other while he was still married to Shelley, and the result was Dylan.

Or so she thought...

Anyway, Angie kept the secret of Dylan's paternity from everyone (not even Rhys knew), and had it not been for the fact that Dylan started dating Kirsty Sutherland, Angie probably would have kept the secret hidden. But with Dylan and Kirsty supposedly being half-siblings, Angie knew that in order to stop the relationship from going further, she had to tell Rhys the truth.

The revelation that Dylan was Rhys' son had negative effects on the Sutherland family. Shelley left Rhys (after falling victim to mind games courtesy of Angie), and the Sutherland family was fractured. Although the Sutherland girls eventually accepted Dylan as part of the family, they had no love for Angie, who tried again to go after Rhys romantically. But Rhys was in no mood to get reacquainted, and pushed Angie away.



This set the stage for Angie's descent into madness, and how she ended up targetting one student in particular because of her inability to separate her home life from her work life.

Certainly, Angie had her share of enemies. She played mind games with her school co-worker Sally Fletcher, and she also managed to wreak havoc with several of the Bay's residents.

However, she saved her venom for student Nick Smith. And what she did to Nick goes beyond being a bad teacher. She crossed the line.

Angie had seen Nick in a negative view ever since Nick and Dylan developed a feud, culminating in a fight. That was strike one, and in Angie's twisted world, one strike was all she needed to destroy a person.

So Angie did what she felt was necessary to try and get Nick out of the picture. Taking a page from the manual of Mary Kay Letourneau, Angie amped up her femininity and began to seduce the young Nick. Nick was left very confused by the whole thing, and wasn't sure what to do. The flirting by Angie caused Nick to have conflicting feelings, and effectively ended a relationship that he was in with Jade Sutherland (effectively killing two birds with one stone, as far as Angie was concerned).



After the break-up between Nick and Jade, Nick told his foster mother Irene everything that had happened, and when Nick tried to confront Angie about what she was doing, Angie's behaviour became even more cold and calculating. She purposely ripped her clothes, messed up her hair and began screaming at the top of her lungs, claiming that Nick had assaulted her in the classroom.

As a result of Angie's manipulative plot, Nick was expelled from Summer Bay High, and the police were ready to file charges against Nick. Angie later dropped those charges, but by then, the damage had been done. The whole town began to turn against Angie, and Angie began to lose her mind even more, burning down a boat shed, and filing a defamation of character suit against Morag Bellingham (a justice who had discovered that Angie had gotten thrown out of her last school for doing the same thing to another student that she had just done to Nick Smith).

By this point, Nick's friends, Seb Miller, Jade, and Kirsty had enough of Angie, and they wanted to team up to get evidence that Angie had set Nick up in hopes of getting Angie to leave Summer Bay. Although it took some time, they managed to get a videotaped confession of Angie admitting that she set Nick up because 'she could'. During this time, it was revealled that Dylan was not Rhys' son, and that although she had honestly been mistaken, she used that information to manipulate Rhys even further before the truth came out. So to say that Angie's hourglass was running low was an understatement at this point.

The truth about Angie and Nick finally came out in one of Sally Fletcher's classes. Seb, Jade, and Kirsty made a video project for the class called 'J'Accuse', and as you'll see in this clip, it was worthy of an A+.

Once that video came out, the writing was on the wall for Angela Russell. She was relieved of all of her teaching duties, and had to face an embarrassing and humiliating walk of shame past all of the people she had manipulated and hurt along the way in an attempt to get what she wanted.

Couldn't have happened to a nicer broad.

A few days after that incident, someone had decided to use brute force to get their message out about Angie, and the resulting confrontation sealed the fate of our teacher from hell. But, nobody could say that she hadn't done anything to deserve it. She was a piece of work, she was. But who committed the crime? I'll leave it up to you to Google to find out.

Certainly, Angela Russell was one of those short-term characters that on most shows don't really amount to anything. Yet in her six month stint on Home and Away, she was one of the more interesting (if not sadistic) characters to ever appear on that show (and quite possibly in the history of global soap operas).

Now, I won't claim that my own experience with my teacher from hell was anything like what Angie did to Nick. That was a fictional story, and quite a bit over the top in comparison to my experience.

And unlike Nick, who was a boy of sixteen when the Home and Away storyline was going on, my story starts back in the first grade.

When first grade began, I was a boy who was six years old, and very nervous about going to that class. After being secluded in the kindergarten class area prior to first grade, this was really my first time being in a school with bigger kids. Having gone to a K-8 school, it was a scary feeling to be the little fish in a big pond, so to speak.

Little did I know that upon entering my first grade classroom that being a small kid in a big school would be the least of my worries.

I guess I'll start by talking about the interesting character quirk that I had when I was in first grade. I used to walk on my tip-toes, rather than my heels, as most kids tended to do.



A lot of people mistakenly believed that I did this strictly by choice, but that wasn't the case at all. From as far back as I can remember until I reached sixth grade, I walked on my toes because I found it extremely painful to even attempt to walk flat-footed. Having been born with naturally thicker arches in my feet than most others had, it took a great deal of time for me to adjust to them, and grow into them. As a result of this, I was unable to walk for long distances at a time, and I only felt comfort by walking on my toes.

I'm fully able to walk normally now, but prior to that, it wasn't easy. It was bad enough that the kids in my class used to make fun of me for seemingly re-enacting that dreadful 'Tiptoe Through The Tulips' song every chance I got. But looking back on it, we were all only five and six at the time, so I can look past it.

So, yeah. I'll admit it. I had a deformity as a child. It just happened to be my feet. But, contain your laughter, because everyone had at least one thing about themselves that they couldn't control. All I could do though was adapt to the idea, and accept the fact that I was different from the other kids. If all that I had against me was my walking style, then I could accept it, right?

That is until she came into my life.

Do you want to know something? Initially, I wasn't even supposed to be in her class. My classroom assignment was switched just hours before the first day of school. The school had made no attempt to even contact my parents about the classroom reassignment, and when they called the school to try and fix the problem, they basically gave them the excuse that the classroom that I was supposed to be in was overcrowded. But what was done was done. I knew a couple of kids from kindergarten were in my class, and I got along with them, so I accepted the new classroom assignment and tried to keep as open a mind as a six year old boy could.

But then things really started to go pear-shaped.

It all started with our classroom writing assignments. My teacher had made comments about how my handwriting was the absolute worst in the class, right in front of everyone in the classroom. I mean, yes, certainly my handwriting wasn't calligraphy ready, but I was only six. At least it was legible which was more than I could say for some of the others in class.

She also was incredibly nit-picky about the artwork that I had done. In particular with our daily journal (of which 85% of the entries were made-up anyway). Apparently, my art skills were limited to blobs that resembled houses and cars, as well as naked stick people. Again, not Picasso worthy, but certainly far from being the worst. Yet, she seemed to think that I wasn't applying myself.

Her assessment? I had horrible motor skills for my age, and she would make it her personal mission to make sure that these skills were corrected. So, every week, it was being booted out of the classroom to 'improve my motor skills', which involved such lovely lessons like walking around school hallways with a book on my head, and being forced to use writing utensils with mega-gigantic pencil holders, which basically screamed 'Hey, look at me, I'm too stupid to hold a pencil properly!'.



She even went as far as designing a special set of crayons for me to use. Problem was that she only gave me seven crayons. No green crayon. Oh, and did I mention that I was not allowed to use the crayons provided for the rest of the class until I mastered the art of holding a pencil properly? So, whenever we had to do an assignment where we had to colour anything green, the best I could do was mix blue and yellow together because she wouldn't allow me to borrow a green crayon from the crayon bin at each table.

If that wasn't being obsessed with power, I don't know what is.

Of course, my teacher was so convinced that there was something physically wrong with me that she never bothered to check the facts as to why I seemed to have such difficulty with motor skills. If she had, she would have discovered that I was rushing through class assignments as a way to compete with my classmates. We were six years old, and we all competed to see who could get their work done the fastest, and ultimately, the quality of my work did suffer. Had she bothered to find this fact out, she could have worked with me, and taught me that by slowing down, I could achieve better quality work. But, no, according to her, I had brain damage or something.


She never really let me feel like I was a part of the class. She purposely left me out of group assignments, and when we had our school fundraising drive for the holiday season, she made a big show out of handing everyone in the class the fundraising booklet for the 1987 drive except me. I asked her why I wasn't able to have a book, and she told me that she didn't have enough, even though I knew that she had extra copies on her desk. My honest opinion was that she almost got off on keeping me from doing what all the other kids were doing because I honestly think that she saw me as a reject of some sort. That I was unable to be rehabilitated, even though in many ways, I didn't feel like I was any different from anyone else.

(Oh, by the way, for future holiday drives, I was the second place top seller in my whole school in 1990, 1991 and 1992! Take that, unbelieving grade one teacher!)

And then there was that fateful day in the middle of the school year that really sent things spiraling out of control.

It had started off just like any other day. But then shortly after lunch, I remember that I had to use the washroom really badly. The boys washroom was just down the hall across from room 8 (my classroom was room 7), so it wasn't that far a walk. I have no idea what the protocol is for leaving class to use the washroom now, but back during the 1987/1988 school year, you had to ask the teacher for permission in order to leave the classroom for a bathroom break. So, me being one who tried to follow the rules, asked the teacher if I could use the washroom.

So, imagine my surprise when my teacher refused to let me go.

She wouldn't let me go until I did something for her.

She wouldn't let me go to the bathroom until I promised her in front of the whole class that I would walk on my flat feet to the bathroom and all the way back to class.

Yep, you read that right. She took my physical weakness and used it to humiliate me in front of the class.

That's despicable.

Yet, the scared six-year-old me did exactly that, because he feared having to stay after school, or have to do extra homework. Looking back on it now, I really should have told off that evil wench of a teacher. But back in those days, the only insults I knew were something along the lines of 'YOU'RE MEAN!'

Hardly the words that make up a meaningful confrontation.

The twisted thing about it is that deep down in her mind, I honestly think she thought she was helping me. She thought that by moulding me into her own version of the perfect student that I would end up being a better example for everyone around me. She didn't even make the effort to understand that I was different, and that my differences were not anything that I could change overnight, if at all.

What she inevitably ended up doing was giving the kids in my class more ammunition to make fun of me. After all, if the teacher could do it, what stopped the kids, right?  And believe me when I tell you that some of the kids took real advantage of that.

What she did was try to make me her own personal cause. Someone she tried desperately to fix, even though I was never broken.

What she did was set the stage for years of self-hate, and self-loathing because I didn't think I could ever be good enough for anyone. If I couldn't be good enough for a teacher, what chance did I have with the rest of the world?

What she did...is unforgivable.

I have absolutely no idea what ever became of her. I refuse to even so much as put down the identity of this person who dared call herself a teacher. She was no such thing. A teacher is supposed to be an inspiration to students and help them become better adults. They are not supposed to make students feel worse about themselves. And any teacher that does this, such as my first grade teacher or the fictional Angela Russell deserves to have their teaching certificates shredded in a paper shredder.

I honestly don't know what I would do if I ever bumped into my first grade teacher out on the street. It's been 25 years almost since I saw her last, and I doubt we'd even recognize each other on the street. A few years back, I might have laid into her and made her feel small...but then I would be just like her, and despite everything she put me through, I am better than that. I can't say that I love her, because I really don't have any love for her at all. But I can't really say I hate her either. If anything, I'm indifferent. I don't feel anything for this woman. She may have hurt me emotionally years ago, but after writing this blog entry, I am at peace with it. I just wonder if she feels the same after all this time.

It is important to know that not all teachers are like my first grade teacher, or Angela Russell. Most teachers do make that effort to connect with their students in a positive manner. For every Angela Russell, there's a teacher who would stay after school to explain a difficult homework assignment to a student. For every first grade teacher from hell, there's a teacher who would fight to keep art programs in public schools to help students better express themselves.

And for every Angela Russell and first grade teacher from hell, there are millions of other teachers who work hard to make sure that their students are well-prepared for the world outside of school, and to make sure that they grow up to be well-adjusted young adults.

Besides, if there's anything that I have learned, it's that karma has a way of working out.  In the end, despite her manipulations which lead to years of self-loathing, I ended up becoming not a bad person.  And that I credit to the many teachers who gave a damn about me and my future.

Tuesday, September 06, 2011

Bring Back Schoolhouse Rock!

I can remember a fond time in which ABC's Saturday Morning line-up wasn't so terrible.

You turn on ABC on a typical Saturday morning, and what do you see? You see Hannah Montana episodes from 2006, That's So Raven episodes from 2002, and Mighty Morphin Power Rangers episodes from 1993?!? Really?!?

It's like someone photocopied the entire Disney Channel line-up from five years ago, threw away the ABC Kids programming chart, and decided that would be acceptable.

News flash. It's not.

At one time, ABC's programming line-up for kids on Saturday morning was one of the best. Bugs Bunny and Tweety, ABC's Weekend Specials, and many more original programs aired on ABC's Saturday morning line-up for years. Not anymore, it seems.

There was one show that I can remember watching back in the glory days of the ABC Saturday morning. A show that debuted on January 6, 1973. A show where the sixty-four episodes produced (of which sixty aired on television) was only three minutes in length.



As your body gets bigger, your mind grows flowered, it's great to learn that knowledge is power!



Schoolhouse Rock was similar in format to the NBC segment 'One To Grow On' in that they had three minute long educational episodes that were placed in between cartoon shows. There were two major differences though.

While One To Grow On dealt with educating kids on morals, ethics, and conflicts, Schoolhouse Rock was a program that educated kids on a variety of subjects that a child would learn during their grade school years. There were segments on multiplication, grammar, science, American history, economics and ecology.



And the second thing that made Schoolhouse Rock stand out was that all of these lessons were set to music. Before the debut of MTV in August 1981, these Schoolhouse Rock segments were the only music videos that millions of children would get up early on Saturdays to watch.

But do any of you know how Schoolhouse Rock came to be?

The concept of Schoolhouse Rock was born at an advertising agency, if you can believe it. At the McCaffney & McCall advertising agency on Madison Avenue in New York City, the McCall of the operation (David McCall, to be precise) came upon a revelation in regards to one of his sons. He discovered that while his son could remember the lyrics to popular rock songs at the time, but was unable to remember his multiplication tables for math class.

It was then that he had a brilliant idea. What if he combined the two? What if he had rock songs that educated children in school subjects?

He put that theory to the test. With help from singer-songwriter Bob Dorough, McCall came up with a song called 'Three Is A Magic Number', a song designed to help children learn how to multiply numbers by three. When the track was recorded, it tested well, and a children's record was released. The first song of the album was 'Three Is A Magic Number', and when a man named Tom Yohe listened to the song, he began to doodle drawings to go with the lyrics, later telling McCall that it would make a great cartoon venture.

After a failed venture to produce the record as a print workbook, McCall decided to pitch the idea to ABC Television (which at the time was the largest account for McCaffney and McCall) to produce an animated series based on the songs on the children's record. They pitched the idea to Michael Eisner (who at the time was the president of the ABC children's programming division), who immediately loved the concept. He even asked longtime Warner Brothers cartoonist Chuck Jones to listen to the presentation, and on January 6, 1973, Schoolhouse Rock was born.



And, it's only fitting that 'Three Is A Magic Number' would be the first episode.

The original series ran from 1973-1985, and was revived in 1993 (presumably for its 20th anniversary), and ran both old and new episodes until early 2000. After that, there were some straight to DVD/video releases as recently as 2009.

The unfortunate part is that the series has not aired on ABC or any other network for at least a decade, and in a way, I feel that the current generation of kids are really missing out. There's only so much Hannah Montana that one can watch before they tune out really quickly. I would actually launch a petition to bring Schoolhouse Rock back on the airwaves because I honestly feel that educational programming is being backburnered for programming that basically teaches kids nothing. And that's a real darn shame.

So, to close this note off, it's my mission to bring forth some of my favourite Schoolhouse Rock segments from each of the early seasons, just so everyone can relive these moments, and so kids born after the mid-1990s can experience this awesome show.

I already showed you a clip from Multiplication Rock, but there were so many other subjects that the show featured. After the 11-episode run of Multiplication Rock was completed in 1973, the next subject to be featured was Grammar Rock, with such songs as 'Interjections!', 'Rufus Xavier Sarsaparilla', and this song.



Science Rock was another popular subject explored by Schoolhouse Rock, debuting its first block of episodes in 1978. Those songs helped kids learn about the solar system, gravity, the digestive system, and this electrifying smash.



Around the American bicentennial of 1976, Schoolhouse Rock put forth a series of segments dealing with American history, called America Rock.  These segments were where kids learned about the Declaration Of Independence and the U.S. Constitution. But they also learned about how the U.S. Government worked.

(Confession: These segments were an actual study aid for my American History class in 12th grade)

Anyways, there were a lot of segments aired for America Rock, including this one.



In the 1993 revamp, the idea of Money Rock began to air on Schoolhouse Rock, and a new generation of kids learned about saving, currency, loans, and balancing a budget.



The final subject to be explored was geology and environmental studies, in a segment called Earth Rock, in 2009, and subjects included global warming, recycling, solar energy, and other subjects. Schoolhouse Rock's last hurrah, if you will.


Monday, September 05, 2011

Monday Matinee: Dead Poets Society



One of my favourite classes in high school was English class. As someone who read books almost every day, and who developed a talent and passion for writing, it's only natural that it would end up being a class that I would put my all into. I even won the eighth grade faculty award for the subject, so clearly it had to have some influence in my life.

Certainly, any class where I was required to write essays, stories, and written projects were classes that I seemed to excel in. English, history, creative writing, media class. Those were all subjects that I really took a keen interest in, and managed to get through with little difficulty. Conversely, math and science were classes that I really did not like very much at all, and as a result, I did very poorly in. But that's just the way my brain was wired, I suppose.

Despite my love for English, there were a couple of aspects to English class that I really did not like at all, or liked very little. While most of the books that I was asked to read for the curriculum were enjoyable and interesting, there were a few that put me to sleep. I know I talk about being proud to be Canadian, and I love almost everything about this country, but oh my goodness, the year we did Canadian literature was the year I wanted to snooze through class.

(On a side note, maybe that's why I want to be a published author so badly...to prove that even us Canadians can come up with captivating and enlightening tales that keep the reader glued to each page.)

And then there was the unit that we had to do on poetry and prose, which was another area of English that until a few years ago, I had absolutely no tolerance for.

I should note that not all the lessons we did on poetry were all that bad. We once had to listen to Top 40 radio and interpret the lyrics of a particular song, and I actually think it was that assignment that may have inspired me to create the Sunday Jukebox feature here.

The majority of the poetry lesson was learning about stanzas, and writing poems, and learning the difference between prose and poetry, and how we were talking about taking the road less travelled by, and how it has made all the difference, blah, blah, blah.

No disrespect to Robert Frost.

But then, I came across the poem, O Captain! My Captain!

And that poem got me thinking about poetry and how powerful it could be. I can consider my own skills in poetry to be adequate, but I consider myself a better storyteller, so I never really put any focus in improving my poetry skills. But, I have to hand it to Walt Whitman, who wrote the poem back in 1865 after the assassination of then American president Abraham Lincoln, he had the chops to come up with an amazing poem.



I did include a photo of the poem in this entry, but in case it's hard to read, here it is in full.


O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchored safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
Maybe some of you might just see it as just another poem by some dead guy, but I liked it.

And apparently, there was a certain movie that was released in late Spring 1989 that featured this poem in a number of instances. It was a movie that featured a teacher that used unorthodox teaching methods, but yet inspired his classroom filled with students to think for themselves and really come into their own as individuals.



That film was 'Dead Poets Society', and the screenplay won an Academy Award in 1990. That screenplay was penned by Tom Schulman, and it was loosely based on his experiences at an all-boys preparatory school in Tennessee, where he attended.

And the whole movie is based on one simple phrase.

Carpe diem.



Carpe diem is a a phrase that could be found in a poem by Horace, and the basic meaning of that phrase is 'seize the day'. Take control of your own destiny. Live as if your future is uncertain.

At the Welton Academy Preparatory School, the idea of carpe diem doesn't seem possible. Run by headmaster Gale Nolan, the school makes no hesitation in priding itself in its values of tradition, honour, discipline, and excellence.

Even though some of the students of the school seem to feel differently.



Although we don't get to see every student in the school, we are introduced to seven of them. There's Neil (Robert Sean Leonard), Todd (Ethan Hawke), Knox (Josh Charles), Charlie (Gale Hansen), Richard (Dylan Kussman), Steven (Allelon Ruggiero, and Gerard (James Waterston). They are all senior students and they are at the age where they are questioning the futures that have supposedly been laid out for them. In particular with Neil and Todd.

Neil had always been expected to go into the field of medicine (something that is quite ironic, given that Robert Sean Leonard currently plays a doctor in the television series House), but has a secret desire to go into the field of acting. Todd on the other hand is destined to become a lawyer, when all he wants to do is write.

Certainly I know a few people who were pressured into following a career that they themselves did not want to pursue. Sometimes parents have a tendency to live through their children, and some even try to salvage their lost dreams by forcing them upon their own kids, regardless of whether they want it or not. This was especially hard for Neil in particular, but I'll get into that a little bit later.



This school year, the seniors happen to have a new English teacher. John Keating (in one of Robin Williams' dramatic roles). His teaching methods as compared to the other educators at Welton are unorthodox, daring, and in all honestly don't seem to fit in well with the message that the headmaster was trying put forth in regards to the school. Somehow, though, I don't think the students of Welton minded too much.

Some of those unorthodox methods of teaching included;



  • telling his students to refer to him as 'O Captain My Captain', if they feel daring
  • whistling the 1812 Overture in class
  • ripping a redundant introductory page right out of their poetry textbooks
  • standing on top of their desks to discover a new way of looking at the world

The teaching methods of one John Keating might have been out of the ordinary, but it really made English class much more fun for the students. And if anything, Keating's presence brought forth two major developments.

For one, it caused the re-creation of the 'Dead Poets Society', a literary club that Keating himself had been a part of in his youth, and they have secret meetings in a cavern on the school grounds.

More importantly, Keating would often take the class outside of the classroom, urging his students to follow their own passions and to live each day as if it counted.

Carpe diem. Seize the day, boys. Make your lives extraordinary.”

Quite the powerful line. It was actually ranked at position 95 on AFI's greatest movie quotes, and it was such a great message. The line is subject to different interpretations, depending on the viewer, but the way I like to see it is that Keating wanted the boys to grab hold on every moment and not let go. He also encouraged his students to follow what drives them and to do what they want to, not because someone else wants them to. They were the only ones who had the power to make their lives the way they wanted it.

As a result of this, he actively encouraged his students to follow their passions. He takes Todd on various activities through self-expression to become a better writer, as he believes that he shows great potential in becoming a fantastic one. He instills a love of poetry in Knox, who ends up writing a poem for a girl he has feelings for, which causes the two to become even closer.

There are some blips along the way (such as when Charlie prints an unauthorized article for the school paper about how females should be admitted as students in Welton, which leads to a standoff at the school inquiry about the article.


After this moment, Keating tells the students to be 'wise, not stupid' when it comes to protesting against the system. A message that becomes really evident at the conclusion of the film (which if you've read any of the Monday Matinee posts at all, you'll know that I NEVER spoil endings). Though, given how powerful the ending was, I was really tempted to post it. I really, really was.

However, just as things seemed to be going well, and Keating was developing an instant rapport with his students, a tragedy happened that really set forth the development of the conclusion of the film, and put Keating's own character into question.

It all began when a production of A Midsummer Night's Dream is put on, and Neil really wanted a role in the play. But he also knew that his overbearing father would disapprove of it. Regardless, he tries out for the play, auditioning for the role of Puck. However, when his father discovers what his son did, he orders him to withdraw from the play. Torn between making his father happy and seeking out his own desire to become an actor, he talks to Keating about what he should do. A well-meaning Keating gives Neil the advice that he should sit down and talk to his father to make him understand how he feels. Sound advice, which I myself would give in this case.



For whatever reason, Neil cannot find the courage within himself to tell his father the truth, so he decides to go behind his back to perform in the play anyways. For the record, the play went off well, and Neil definitely had acting chops. Had he been allowed to pursue it, he could have been great. Unfortunately, his father arrived at the end of the show, not looking at all pleased.
He was furious with him, he was. Going to enroll him in a military school, he was. It will prepare him for Harvard, it would. Become a doctor he would. His father would make sure of it. Despite Neil's protests about not wanting that career, and wanting to be an actor, his father seemingly had the last word. Which makes the fate of Neil to become one of the biggest tragedies in the whole movie (figuratively and literally), and set forth the events that would ultimately lead to the future of John Keating's teaching career at Welton.

As I said before, I won't spoil the ending of this film, because I really think it's one of those films that you really have to watch from beginning to end. Trust me, it is that good of a movie.

But you know, just going back to the point I was talking about in regards to parents who seemingly live through their children. In a lot of ways, I think this was the case between Neil and his father. It almost seemed like it was predetermined for Neil to have this set path in motion, and nothing was going to stand in his way.

That is until a caring, well-meaning teacher stepped in and tried to help him see that the only one who was in control of Neil's destiny was Neil himself. And although Neil's destiny didn't end up the way that anyone had planned or wanted to happen, at least for that one brief moment, Neil had enough courage in himself to do what he felt was the right thing.

In this world, we see dozens of examples of people vicariously living through their kids for whatever reason. You see it at sporting events. You see it in academics. Hell, you see it on that disturbing TLC show 'Toddlers & Tiaras', which is worthy of another blog entry in itself somewhere down the line.

The point is that having dreams for your children is one thing. Practically forcing your dreams onto your children when they have their own goals in life is not acceptable under any circumstances. As far as I'm concerned, people should have the ability to make their own destinies and seize their own moments.

John Keating understood this, and made it his mission to teach his students life lessons on top of the lessons on stanzas, verses, and prose.

And in my opinion, I think that's one of the things that makes a really good teacher. Seizing the moment. Carpe diem.



Sunday, September 04, 2011

Sunday Jukebox - Hot For Teacher by Van Halen



WARNING: This blog entry may contain some adult content...nothing too scandalous or scarring, but I probably wouldn't advise parents to let their young kids read it or anything. In fact, I'll post one of these stickers on this particular entry.

(Although I do realize that this is a futile attempt to warn children away from this blog, I will say that this sticker is loosely related to this blog entry.)

Yesterday's entry for this venture was a touching tribute to a couple of teachers (one real, one fictitious), and really got everyone thinking about how teachers can really serve to be an inspiration to students.

So, for today, I'm flipping the script and launching into a rant! Excited yet?

So, for the Sunday Jukebox, rather than talk about the group and the song in detail (there really isn't much to say about it), I'm going to use the subject of the song to get my thoughts out about a teacher who...shall we say...disgraced herself?

Let's begin.

Have you ever heard of a group known as the PMRC?

If you haven't, fear not, because I will tell you what it was.

The PMRC stood for Parents Music Resource Center, which was the group that was made up of four women known as the 'Washington Wives' (Tipper Gore was one of these members) in an attempt to clean up the music industry. Going after such artists like Madonna, Sheena Easton, Prince, and Def Leppard, the group made up a list of songs called the 'Filthy Fifteen', and proceeded to target any artist who used references that were violent, sexual, or promoted drug use. They were also the group responsible for retailers pulling rock music themed magazines off store shelves, and putting those black and white 'Parental Advisory' stickers on album covers.

Although this song didn't quite make it on that 'Filthy Fifteen' list, it was targetted by the PMRC for its sexual imagery and implications of sexual activity within the lyrics.

And, ironically enough, it's the perfect song to illustrate my blog point for today!



ARTIST: Van Halen
SONG: Hot For Teacher
ALBUM: 1984
DATE RELEASED: October 1984
PEAK POSITION ON THE BILLBOARD CHARTS: #56

So...yeah. No real surprises here. Bikini clad women bouncing around classrooms filled with children, sexually suggestive lyrics...hmmm...yeah, I can see how the 'Helen Lovejoys' of the PMRC would be perfecting their 'oh, won't anybody please think of the children' spiel.

Although, watching this video, it's really no different from seeing a video for say, Lady Gaga or Beyonce or whatever pop tart du jour is the target of heaps of praise this year.



The song didn't do so well on the Billboard charts, but the video was definitely memorable.

It also seems to fit in with today's topic that is related to what I really want to discuss in this blog...considering that this is Day 2 of Teacher's Week, and all.

Student crushes on teachers or professors.

Be honest. Have any of you ever developed a crush on a teacher in your lifetimes? Honestly?

It's okay. It happens a lot more than you think it does. Why I can remember seeing lots of instances in various forms of media where students have innocent, childlike crushes on teachers. I've seen it happen on Full House, Saved By The Bell, even in comic books!

I wish I could tell you stories about how I had a crush on a teacher when I was in elementary school or high school, but in all honesty, I never really did. Mind you , most of them were about the same age as my mother, and the rest of them were as old as my GRANDMOTHER. So, yeah, definitely not attracted to any of them at all.

Though I happen to know for a fact that some female students had mild crushes on the male student teachers or even some of the younger male teachers. Though, I won't be naming names on this one because that would be tacky. Besides, it wasn't any of my business anyways.

Most of the time, these crushes that students can sometimes develop on teachers are harmless in nature, and usually only last a few months before a boy band member or a soap opera actor takes over their dreams.

It's when those crushes develop into something more that things get more dicey and inappropriate. Basically, have the crush, but don't act on it. I could be wrong, but any instance where I was at school, nobody ever acted upon their crushes for teachers, because we all knew that it was wrong.

But what happens when a teacher falls in love with a student and actively pursues them to the point where inappropriateness and immorality circulates, and it gives the Helen Lovejoys of the world a real reason to scream out in horror?



Perfect example. Mary Kay Letourneau. Remember her? She was the teacher who taught at an elementary school in Washington until her affair with one of her students was broadcast to various media outlets all over the world. She was 35. The student, 13 years old.

As if that weren't bad enough, she had gotten pregnant by this child during their series of romantic liaisons.

Needless to say, she ended up losing her teaching job. She went to jail for seven years because of the whole affair, being charged with statutory second degree rape of a child.

You would think that would be enough for her to swear off of preteens forever.

See, here's where the story gets a little more twisted. Certainly, Mary Kay broke the law. She did something that most people find horrific and disgusting. Yet, the victim of this didn't see it as such. He had actually fallen in love with his teacher, and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

Kind of sounds like a soap opera plot from hell, eh?

So Mary Kay served her seven years in prison, ended up giving birth to two children fathered by her teenaged lover (one time, she was impregnated by him during a probationary period where she violated her agreement to not see him again, and that's what lead to her seven year prison sentence).



After the sentence was up, Mary Kay was reunited with her lover, now 21 years old, and in 2004, she married her former student, Vili Fualaau. Naturally, they gave permission for media outlets to photograph and film the wedding (probably because they needed the money to pay for all the court dates she had to attend), and apparently, she wants to get back into teaching again, despite having to register as a Level 2 sex offender.

Seriously, would YOU want this woman teaching at your school?

You know, normally, I'm all for those happily ever after moments. I love it when people who are in love with each other reunite after months or years of not seeing each other again. In most cases, they're satisfying to watch, and they really make you stop and think about what's really important in life.

I'm unapologetic in saying that I do not feel this way when it comes to Mary Kay and Vili. I'm actually kind of disgusted.

Their love affair that ultimately turned into a marriage hurt so many people along the way. Mary Kay already had a husband and four children at home during the time that this affair went on. With her impulsiveness, she ended up dragging their names through the scandal, and they did nothing to warrant that, in my opinion. So the marriage wasn't going right, and she needed a way out. There were plenty of other ways to do that than going after a thirteen year old boy!



In the end, I guess it doesn't matter what I or anyone else thinks of this. They're still together, and apparently they now do DJ nights at night clubs dubbed 'Hot For Teacher' nights. Classy.

It really doesn't matter. In the end, despite their love for one another, Mary Kay took advantage of a teenager and did things with him that she knew were wrong. Teachers are supposed to be role models, and frankly, she wasn't. Sure, Vili has repeatedly told the media that he doesn't see himself as a victim, nor does he regret his feelings and love for Mary Kay. Considering that he's 27 now, I think he believes that to be true now...but at 13, how can you say that he WASN'T a victim? It's hard to pinpoint what really happened to cause this media firestorm, and we really don't know who made the first move. But as far as I'm concerned, the teacher should have known better. She really should have.

What makes this case even more ironic was that years ago, her own father had an affair with a former student at the college he taught at, and fathered two children with her out of wedlock! And, Mary Kay actually defended him, saying that her mother drove him to do it! Funny how history repeated itself, huh?



When 'Hot For Teacher' was first released, Vili Fualaau was a toddler, and Mary Kay was likely just finishing up her college years. Who knew that it would be a song that would end up describing their bizarre courtship and union?

Saturday, September 03, 2011

Saturday Comic Special: The Life And Times Of Geraldine Grundy



Hello, fellow Pop Culture addicts all around the world! I hope your Labour (or Labor If you live down in the lower 48 states, Alaska, and Hawaii spell it) Day weekend is going as perfect as it can be, and that whatever you're doing, you're having fun.

For many of us, this is the final long weekend of the whole summer, so whether you're working or playing, I hope you enjoy it. Some of us are back at school already, and some of us will be going back this Tuesday. A sad reminder that summer is over and we'll be heading into the season of autumn before you know it.

Well, unless you happen to like school, that is.


Anyway, to kick off the beginning of another school year, I thought that I would make this week Teacher's Week. Every day from September 3 to September 9, we'll be featuring a type of pop culture reference that has to do with either teaching or education. There will be one for the Sunday Jukebox, one for the Monday Matinee...I've even managed to find one for Thursday Night at the Arcade, if you can believe it. Of course, I will try to find references to my own experiences within the public school system, and talk about the good, the bad, and the ugly. In fact, take note of September 7...I'll be talking about the ugly in that one...perhaps one of my most heated blog entries that I've ever done. But, that will wait until Across The Pond Wednesday.

At least I'll give you some incentive to keep checking in the blog until then, right?

So today happens to be Saturday, September 3, 2011, and this means that I'm going to be talking about a cartoon series. In all actuality, I will be talking about a comic book character. The good news is that this comic book character has appeared in at least three incarnations of a popular cartoon serial that first began airing in the 1960s. But first, I'd like to tell you a story about one of my school experiences, if you don't mind.

I'm sure that as all of us went through school, we all had teachers in our life that really inspired us. Teachers that were so passionate about teaching that they made us want to learn. Teachers that made us want to better ourselves as people, and who were genuinely excited about helping us grow into adults (or, just more mature children).

I can think of one teacher right off the bat that fits this description very well.

When I was entering sixth grade in September 1992, it was a rather difficult year for me at first. In actuality, it started way back a year later in the fifth grade. That was the year that a lot of my friends that I had from elementary school headed off to a different school that specialized in French Immersion, and it was more or less one of those instances where I was basically left to my own devices to find a new group of friends. I managed to find a small group in fifth grade that I hung around with quite often, and by the end of that year, things sort of worked out to the point where I was okay with the way things had gone.

During that summer between fifth and sixth grades though, things began to go downhill. Two of them moved away from town that summer, and as far as the rest of the group went, they were all assigned to different teachers. So entering sixth grade, I was more or less in the same classroom with a couple of acquaintances, sixteen kids who basically ignored me, and a group of kids who used to pick on me to the point where I would dissolve into a pool of tears.

(I was a wee bit on the sensitive side in sixth grade.)

By all accounts, the 1992/1993 school year was looking as if it would be one of the worst school years ever, Even worse than 1987/1988 (which you'll read more about on the 7th).

Instead, the whole year was saved by a wonderful teacher.

Her name was Mrs. Woodfine. She was one of those teachers that looked quiet and timid on the outside...but inside, she was a ball of fire. And I mean that in a good way.

What I mean by this comment was that Mrs. Woodfine was the type of teacher who encouraged you to give your all in everything that she taught. This included what I would consider to be some of the best school projects that I think any teacher could have given us. I'll never forget the one time we were learning about geology terms and how we had to design a landscape that featured things like plateaus, peninsulas, and glaciers. We were told to make a three-dimensional model out of a plaster like mixture. I thought that it would turn out to be a disaster when I was putting it together, but it actually turned out to be a project that looked amazing. She also had some incredibly creative art project ideas, such as making Easter egg cards for our reading buddies, and making pop-up posters for art class. In fact, it was one of those pop-up posters that ended up getting chosen for display at the student art gallery, so I guess I can thank her for getting my name out there in my short lived art career. :)

There was so much more to her than simple art projects and geography models. In fact, I'd also like to share a personal story in regards to my sixth grade teacher, involving a series of embarrassing events that happened to me.

I'm sure that some of you remember going to a program in your schools called the D.A.R.E. Program. It was an educational program designed to teach middle school students the dangers of drugs, alcohol, violence, and gang activity. We had something similar in my school, only it was called the V,E.P. Program (Very Effective Person). For the first semester of the year, we would have a police constable come in to tell us that drugs were bad, and alcohol was bad, etc. In all honesty, it wasn't anything that I hadn't known before, and looking back on it, it all seemed kind of like a waste of time. Nevertheless, at the end of the semester, shortly before the Christmas break, we would graduate from the program, have an assembly at night, and we'd get our certificate and aqua-coloured T-shirt.

I can remember the graduation ceremony date very well. The date was December 8, 1992. And, how do I know this? It was the same day that I had a belt grading ceremony at the karate school where I took classes for a few years. I ended up earning my yellow belt, but once I did, I had to leave the school so I could make it to the V.E.P. Graduation ceremony.

Did I mention that I didn't have time to change out of my karate gi? And that while everyone else in my sixth grade class were decked out in dress clothes and dresses, I was in my sweaty karate outfit that looked like white pajamas? Yeah, I stuck out like a sore thumb.

When it came time for me to come up on stage to accept my diploma, there I was, walking across the stage in my karate gi while some of the more...shall we say...vocal little urchins purposely laughed and poked fun at me. What I should have done was provide a spur-of-the-moment karate chop to those bratty children from one of the katas that I had to learn in order to shut them up while demonstrating my keen karate moves.

Instead, I cried. I burst out crying right in front of all of those people and I promptly ran off the stage, embarrassed beyond belief. At that moment, I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

But then a few days later, once the 'Karate Kid' scandal died down, my sixth grade teacher pulled me aside, and asked me to open up a green notebook that she had given me a couple of months ago. It was a book she had given me to jot down all the instances in which I felt like I was being bullied, or teased by my classmates. Initially, it was only designed for me to give only to the teacher. Unfortunately, my classmates found out about the book, and made even more fun of me. That was fine though. Gave me more material.

So, anyway, she encouraged me to write down how I was feeling about things, and she would look over it and write in some tips as to how I could handle conflicts with students better. And you know what...most of the time, her advice was spot on.

In fact, the whole idea of writing down my problems in a little book kind of was the early beginnings to my love for writing. I always found it easier to express myself through written measures than I ever could verbally. Eventually, I ended up turning my pain into words, and I find that I became a better writer because of it.

So there you have it. Without the support and encouragement from a teacher named Mrs. Woodfine, this blog very well may not exist today.

It's been years since I've seen Mrs. Woodfine. Last time I think I saw her was when I was in the tenth grade, and we used to have gym classes out at my old elementary school field (our high school football field had to be built at an elementary school, as our high school was in the middle of a concrete area. I honestly don't even know if she is still alive, to tell you the truth. I just hope that wherever she is, that she knows how much I respected her as a student. She really was my favourite teacher during elementary school.

Okay, enough about me and sixth grade.



The subject of today's blog is a teacher that like Mrs. Woodfine was an inspiration to her students at Riverdale High School. She may have had an edge to her, and she may have had a reputation of being strict. And her fashion sense may have been nonexistant (at least in her early years). However, she was probably one of the best teachers to ever exist in the world of comic books.



Geraldine Grundy has been a staple of Riverdale High and Archie Comics since the comic serial first appeared in the early 1940s. Just judging by her early appearances, it appeared as though Miss Grundy was painfully behind the times. With her hair in a librarian style bun, her teeth (or tooth) looking like it needed an orthodontist desperately, and the same floor length burgundy school marm dress that she wore for almost 35 years straight, Miss Grundy looked more like she belonged in the 1800s instead of the 1900s.

Over the years though, Miss Grundy may have ended up discovering the benefits of Botox and make-up because her looks started to greatly improve, and her fashion sense greatly improved.

Maybe Betty and Veronica decided to give her some tips? Who knows?

Regardless of Miss Grundy's appearance, one thing that you could say about her was that as much as her students drove her crazy sometimes (and in a couple of occasions, she almost decided to quit teaching), she would do almost anything to help her students do better in school.

Take her relationship with Betty Cooper for example. Miss Grundy had told Betty that she had natural aptitude as a writer, and that she was a joy to have in her class. But when Betty noticed that Miss Grundy had put a lot of red ink on her papers, she grew concerned that she was losing her edge. Not so, said Miss Grundy. Miss Grundy admitted to Betty that she graded her a little tougher than the others in the class because she knew Betty had a natural talent as a writer, and didn't want her to accept anything that wasn't her best work. Through Miss Grundy's encouragement, Betty became a better writer, and if you've ever read any of those Betty's Diary comic books, you can see samples of Betty's writing.



Miss Grundy was also a big help to Moose as well. Moose was always a student who struggled in school. His schoolwork and general proficiency skills were at a lower standard than the others in the class, and often his written assignments were difficult, if not impossible to understand. It wasn't until Miss Grundy (with help from Mr. Weatherbee) sent Moose for some medical tests that they discovered that Moose was dyslexic. Through different learning methods that Miss Grundy implemented into her lesson plans, and her constant encouragement helped Moose improve, and eventually he found himself at the same level as the other students in class, and that was all because of Miss Grundy's help.

Eventually, she would have effects on every single person that she taught. She taught Reggie Mantle how to become more humble. She taught Archie Andrews skills on how to manage his time better. She taught Veronica Lodge that her personality could attract more people than her money. As for Jughead Jones, well...Jughead kept her on her toes with his unusual methods of learning, such as sleeping through class yet retaining every single piece of her lesson plan.

Miss Grundy was a valuable member of the faculty of Riverdale High, and all the teachers loved her, as did the principal of the school, Waldo Weatherbee. Occasionally, there would be some plot where Miss Grundy was going to leave the school to take on a job at other schools that paid more. I recall one instance where a woman named Jane Silver owned a private school where her sole motivation was to attract the wealthy kids of Riverdale and give them a substandard education so that she could net a huge profit. When Veronica made it clear that she didn't want to go to the school, Ms. Silver staged a plot to bribe Miss Grundy and Mr. Weatherbee with fancy gifts and money so that they would leave Riverdale High to encourage Veronica to transfer there. With help from Archie and Chuck Clayton, they were able to expose Jane Silver's evil plan, and Miss Grundy remained at Riverdale High.

And that was just one of the many examples of how the student body got together to help Miss Grundy out.


In Riverdale High #4, which was released for the 1990 Christmas season, Miss Grundy's apartment gets damaged by a fire. The damage to her apartment is mostly smoke and water damage, but Miss Grundy is devastated because the fire seemed to have destroyed the only surviving photograph of her with her presumably deceased parents. The fire has also temporarily left her homeless just days before Christmas, so a kind-hearted Betty decides to take her in to her family's home. Problem is that this occurs the same night that the gang is slated to have their Christmas party at Betty's home. When the night of the party occurs, the mood is awkward as the group doesn't like having their party supervised by a teacher. But then Miss Grundy lets her hair down and shows the gang what real fun is about.



The gang is inspired by Miss Grundy's impromptu fun-streak (a mood they're not used to seeing from her) and everyone quickly forgets about the circumstances behind having Miss Grundy there...until Reggie accidentally brings it up during a party game. At which point, Miss Grundy starts to feel sad, and wants to go back home, so the gang all leave Betty's house, and head towards her apartment, where this happens.



Sometime between the last day of classes and the party, the gang managed to get inside her apartment and fixes it up with some cleaning and painting. Even more astonishingly, they managed to restore the picture that meant so much to her. That act of kindness warmed Miss Grundy's heart, and it really showed her just how much her students loved her.

That's why when the decision was made to kill her off in 2011, it sparked a whole lot of reaction.

That's right. They KILLED OFF MISS GRUNDY.



I should explain. There's a magazine called Life With Archie: The Married Life, which depicts two separate stories that would take place after Archie gets married to Betty and Veronica (he doesn't marry both of them at once, he marries each one in a separate tale). Well, in the Betty story, Miss Grundy reveals that she is dying of a terminal illness, and this prompts several changes. Mr. Weatherbee (who had been hiding his feelings for Miss Grundy for many, many years) ended up marrying Miss Grundy just before she passed away. Miss Grundy talks about the whirlwind courtship in this panel.



For the record, I always said that Miss Grundy was a wise woman. Her feelings about love are exactly the same way that I feel about it. Very wise woman indeed.

So in the fifth issue of Life With Archie magazine, Miss Grundy and Mr. Weatherbee tie the knot (in a bizarre triple wedding which also saw the union of Jughead and Midge, and Mr. Svenson and Ms. Beazly). They managed to last 42 days as husband and wife, living every day like it was their last.

By Life With Archie #6, Geraldine Grundy was at death's door, and everyone that she had touched along the way with her teaching skills and life lessons gathered inside the hospital lobby waiting for word on her condition. When Mr. Weatherbee told the crowd that Miss Grundy had died, everyone's heart broke simultaneously, as the group mourned the loss of what could have been one of the most remarkable teachers that they ever knew.

The eulogy for Miss Grundy was very touching, as each person spoke out over how much the teacher meant to them. Archie talked about how he'd never be able to repay her for giving him self-confidence. Betty talked about how wonderful a teacher she was. Veronica was overwhelmed by the huge heart Miss Grundy had. Moose felt that Miss Grundy saved him from failing English, as well as life. Jughead was too broken up about her death to even say a word. But perhaps the most touching piece came from Mr. Weatherbee himself.



Now, it's important to know that the Life With Archie magazine is set in the future. In many current Archie titles, Miss Grundy is still alive and well, so they didn't kill her off completely so that she would never appear again. But in this particular story, the writers of the story did a phenomenal job at honouring this character, and making everyone realize just what a fantastic teacher she really was.

In future Life With Archie storylines, life went on, and Mr. Weatherbee remained as principal of Riverdale High. However, Betty and Archie went on to become teachers at the school in their adult lives, and Betty was given Miss Grundy's old classroom, which Betty graciously accepted.

And, just to add a little plug for the company, the whole Life With Archie Magazine is a really decent read for any Archie fans out there. It comes highly recommended.

So, I'm going to wrap this entry up, as it became a lot longer than I had initially planned it to be. But I'm going to leave you with this. In order to be a good teacher (and ultimately a good leader), you have to really listen to your students, and make them eager to learn. Ultimately, you have to also be compassionate, firm when necessary, and have the drive to prepare your students for the future. Mrs. Woodfine did a fantastic job with my school years, and that's why I chose to talk about her in this blog entry. She and Miss Grundy were teachers that loved what they did, and genuinely cared about their students. As a result, they helped their students learn more than just arithmetic.