One Christmas season past, I found myself working as a substitute teacher in a local high school. I graduated from law school earlier that year, and was working as a substitute to supplement my income while awaiting the bar results.
Three years of being trained to cleverly argue about anything made me well prepared to deal with teenagers. Also, I had spent nearly a decade as a teenager myself so I also had that experience to rely upon.
The main purpose of a substitute teacher is crowd control. To that end, I had developed a technique in which I would identify the most likely rabblerouser and crush him (hopefully) at the first sign of trouble. The goal was to to head off any potential uprising. Smite the Shepard and the flock will scatter as they say.
One December morning, the week before Christmas break, I was substituting for a class the subject of which escapes me and does not matter. The students filed in, I took attendance and handed out the assignment. I then addressed the class:
“Okay, just a reminder, Christmas is coming in a few days so be good because Santa’s elves are watching.”
It seemed innocuous enough. But I was speaking to teenagers.
In the front row sat a surly male student. Slouched in his chair he declared:
“There is no such thing as Santa Claus.”
A hush fell over the room. The gauntlet thrown at my feet. That group of teenagers were undecided whether to like me, or tear me to pieces. It was a tipping point. I replied:
“Just because Santa doesn’t go to your house doesn’t mean he’s not visiting ours.”
The class erupted in laughter. The surly teen was socially crushed.
After all these years, I hope Santa did indeed make it to that young man’s house.
Merry Christmas!
copyright 2018 Christopher Donahue