Kathy Rohloff:
Disruptive Classroom Force

There are a lot of disruptive forces in nature. Cyclones, hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, and famine are a few that come to mind. One force that most people do not know about is me, specifically me in a classroom setting, especially if I’m sitting by a friend.

I was reminded of this painful truth at a recent staff seminar. On the first day I muttered some comments under my breath, and the office manager hied out of the room to the bathroom where she was convulsed with laughter. I do not know what I said, but I do know that she refused to sit with me on the second day of the conference. She claimed that her sides were still aching from laughing.

In high school I received excellent grades, had a lot of friends, and talked incessantly through most of my classes.

In Mrs. Campbell’s history class, I shared the room with numerous buddies. And hey, if I didn’t know you, I could always meet you. Hence, there was always someone to converse with. Mrs. C. was a stickler for right answers. Once in the middle of a conversation I was having, she asked me a pertinent fact concerning the Revolutionary War. I promptly replied correctly and she never interrupted my chatting again. As long as I knew the information and got the grades, she accepted my behavior.

She also let Don P. read novels throughout class. Once when someone challenged her on some information concerning a French/Indian War fact, she called out to Don, "Don, did I discuss the main events in the French/Indian War?"

"Yeah," he replied, "Last Tuesday, right before we moved onto famous quotes that we’re on now."

"But he reads during class," was the reply.

"AND he gets straight A’s," she said.

My sophomore year I took biology II and was a bit subdued by the fact that all the other students were seniors with a sprinkling of juniors. Since I was the youngest in the class, I managed to remain quiet for the first few days. But my lab partner Julie and I soon found common interests and the dialogue began to flow. With Julie, I think I met my match. She could talk more than I could. Amazing.

After the first semester, Mr. O’Flaherty our long suffering teacher, decided after numerous warnings, that his only alternative was to give us new partners. I was teamed with the most studious senior girl in the class, Becky.

Becky was a good Nazarene girl. No make-up, long dresses, quiet, the very antithesis of me with my mini skirts, white eyeliner, and shagged haircut.

Becky had me cowed. The first two weeks passed calmly because I was helpless before her appearance and her scholarship. That was until we dissected frogs. Something happened when we were scooping the eggs out of our female frog’s abdomen. I think it was my singing softly "the knee bone’s connected to the thigh bone." To my amazement, I heard Becky humming and then singing along.

That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, hilarious experiments, and great fun. Poor Mr. O’Flaherty! His attempt to redeem me resulted in Becky being corrupted into a much noisier lab partner than Julie ever hoped to be.

I finally met my match, though, in geometry class with Mr. Benson. Mr. Benson was young, the golf coach, and quite pleasant to look at. Although I detested geometry, at least the scenery by the board was engaging.

Now, I did not do well in geometry. To my chagrin, I admit, that I received my first-ever "C" in that class. I just could not understand it. But not comprehending did not interfere with my visiting during class.

I was warned often by Mr. Benson, but I always fell back into my same pattern after a couple of days, yapping away. Once when I was turned backwards chatting with a classmate, I heard a throat being cleared. Facing forward my eyes spied an eraser completely covered in a thick film of chalk held a mere fraction of an inch from my face. I looked up into the angry eyes of Mr. B as he said, "Once more word, Kathy, just one more, and this eraser is going to land in your face."

I didn’t say a word. I got it. Finally.

I’d like to say that I worked really hard and earned an A in that class. Not true. I worked really hard and missed a B by three points. So, I worked hard enough the rest of the year to get a C. But I earned it quietly.