I’ve never had a strong desire to be a teacher. Don’t get me wrong. I admire tremendously those who teach. It was a teacher in junior high who taught me to love science. It was a teacher in high school who got me hooked on history. Another teacher helped me overcome stuttering and learn how to speak in public . . . how to think on my feet . . . how to pace the delivery of words . . . how to use humor. And it was yet another teacher who passed along the practical techniques I still use in digging pearls out of scriptural oysters.
So, let me firmly establish this fact: I am deeply indebted to several teachers. If you teach, be encouraged! You probably have no idea how great a contribution you are making.
If I were to teach, however, I think I would keep a personal journal of the funny things my students said.
Actually, Richard Lederer must have had the same brilliant idea. In fact, he even published the mistakes in a book cleverly titled Anguished English, in which he sort of pastes together the “history” of the world from genuine student bloopers collected by teachers throughout America, from eighth grade through college level.
Here are a few examples. Hold on tight . . . there’s a lot to be learned that you may have missed in your years in school.
For example, did you know that Ancient Egypt was inhabited by mummies who wrote in hydraulics? They lived in the Sarah Dessert and traveled by Camelot. Certain areas of that dessert were cultivated by irritation.
Then we learn that in the first book of the Bible, Guinessis, Adam and Eve were created from an apple tree. One of their children, Cain, asked, “Am I my brother’s son?”
After that, Pharaoh forced the Hebrew slaves to make bread without straw, and Moses went up on Mount Cyanide to get the ten commandments. He died before he ever reached Canada.
Later we learn that David was a Hebrew king skilled at playing the liar. He fought with the Finkelsteins. Solomon, one of his sons, had 300 wives and 700 porcupines.
See why I have no compelling desire to be a teacher?
“A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops”
(Henry Brooks Adams).