Ah, high school.  As I mentioned yesterday, those aren’t really days that I would ever care to repeat.  Even though I don’t want to repeat them, I did learn a lot and look back at most of those days as good days.  Adolescence is hard.  I don’t care how big of a town you live in or how stable your home is.  Teenage boys are hormonal, generally have short attention spans, have tons of energy, and generally would rather be any place other than school.
It just so happened that my high school sophomore English/Lit class was the same time of day that the girls had their PE or elective.  This meant that my sophomore English/Lit teacher, Mr. Harrison had a room full 20 or smart mouthed, teenage boys who couldn’t care less about Shakespeare, Poe, Dickens, or Steinbeck.  I was naturally good at English, but didn’t really care much for literature.  Some of it was interesting, like Poe, Dickens, and Twain, but the poetry, and Shakespeare stuff was dull.  Please don’t hate me.
Mr. Harrison was different than most teachers.  He didn’t fit the mold.  That’s probably why he only lasted about 3 years.  He drove a 1976 Jeep CJ5 and it had the word “Tenacity” stenciled on the sides.  He always backed it into his parking space.  In the classroom he was different too.  He understood what it was like to be a teenage boy and, while he demanded respect and order in the classroom, he tried to make our time and fun as possible. ...
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