Monday, September 21, 2009

Post-Football Game Observations

I know that I am getting old and if you don't want to hear a little preaching from someone who is older and (I hope) wiser, you better click on over to another blog. First of all, let me preface my little "sermonette" with a reminder that I am an educator and I'm proud of my profession. Although I am no longer a teacher in the classroom, the classroom is never far from my heart. God called me to be a teacher. With that calling came a higher degree of accountability as a role model for my students and their families in and out of the classroom. And, of course, as a believer I certainly want my walk to match my talk.

That said, on Saturday night at the football game the 32 year old attorney and season ticket holder that sits in front of us brought three 23 year old single teachers to the game. They had been having a very good time tailgating and were bringing the party on to the stadium. I didn't know that they make vodka pocket shots, but I learned that a man's cargo pants can hold a lot of shots. The three teachers were beautiful girls. However, they didn't look so beautiful Saturday night to those of us sitting around them. This was evidenced by the rolling of the eyes and head shaking. Let's see, not only were their hands all over the attorney, his hands were all over them. They must have struck every suggestive pose possible so that they could take at least a thousand pictures (that's not too gross of an exaggeration!) They went to get corn dogs to use as props! I'm hoping that you're getting the drift.

These girls weren't even aware that a game was being played on the field. We heard them talking about being teachers during the game. What they were doing was wrong on so many different levels and displays such a lack of self-respect. However, I kept thinking what if one of us was a parent of one of their students. How can a teacher demand certain behavior from a student that he/she is not willing to display herself/himself?

As a final note, girls, I am really not a prude, but I'm tired of looking at bare hineys as I climb the stairs behind you. I dread when my granddaughters reach their teens.


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