Thursday, May 17, 2012

Hypocrisy, Thy Name Is Teenager

Since today was the last day of school, I held my students captive. In fact, I mounted a search party for two who were present at lunch, but absent from my classroom four minutes after. It doesn't pay to fool Mrs. Hillbilly Mom.

After refusing to grant parole to my prisoners who desired to roam free, and denying transfers to those who sought a change of facilities, I popped in a DVD of David Blaine, Magic Man. Because nothing holds adolescents' attention like perceived magic skills from a hypnotic-eyed creeper. As they referred to the esteemed Mr. Blaine.

In one scene ol' Dave does a card trick for a Tennessee boy who appears to be 5th or 6th grade age. It must have been a sweltering day on that occasion, because Dave is dripping sweat in his black shirt, and the kid had put his own t-shirt behind his head. You know, so it looked like he was shirtless in front, and wearing a shirt backpack on his shoulders. Dave has Kid look at a card. It's the four of hearts. Kid puts it back in the deck without showing Dave. Dave tells him to put his hand on Dave's upper left pectoral area. Or in Dave words, "Put your hand on my chest right here." It's above Dave's nip. Fingers at his collar bone. After a moment of concentration, Dave says, "I've got it. You can take your had away." Dave pulls up his own shirt and reveals a temporary black tattoo of the four of hearts card.

And that darn student audience of mine all exclaimed, "Eww! Creeper perv!" Because (1) Dave looked at a kid with no shirt, and (2) Dave told the kid to touch his chest, and (3) because Dave pulled up his own shirt and showed his chest.

Sweet Gummi Mary! Is this the Victorian Era? Do these kids never go to the pool? What's wrong with a dude with no shirt? Or a hand on a chest?

Keep in mind that this judgment came from students who will touch each other inappropriately all the live-long day, and push the boundaries of the school dress code until it cries, "BULLY!" unless they are monitored around the clock from the time they set foot on school grounds.

There's a reason we have to stand in the hall between classes, and also keep the eyes in the back of our head on the classroom. Couples of mixed and same sex will engage in full-frontal hugging until a hose is turned on them, hop on each others backs, give the old titty-twister or purple nurple, and "sack" each other during their routine jaunt from classroom to classroom. Inside the room, hugging breaks out, along with neck and back massages, hair stroking, lap sitting, and over-desk leaning.

Guys try to wear their saggy pants so low that only a long shirt prevents a public indecency arrest. Seriously. The waistband is below Mr. Peabody, and entire boxer-covered cheeks make an appearance if the arms are raised. At least this violation is easy to spot by the gait of the perpetrator. Girls wear the navel-plunging necklines, or tanks that have the required two-inch shoulder width, but are cut out in the back to reveal entire shoulder blades, bra bands, and bra straps. Fingertip-length shorts have apparently been mistaken for wrist-length shorts. It is a constant battle, but one which we are winning. Because nobody wants their parents called, and they hate covering up with a shapeless jacket all day.

So explain to me, please, how David Blaine is the perv.

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