Every Professor Should be a Bodison
Published Jun 11, 2011  printer-friendly

        This website is dedicated to exposing the illegitimacy of professors  who use their power to promote their politics. The subject for this evening is Professor Stephanie Bodison, who specializes in pediatrics.    

         I discovered at a very early age that teachers were often incredibly flawed. The most memorable incident in this regard happened in third grade. It happened on a day I really had to pee. I had to pee before lunch and I had every intention of peeing at lunch. But in the world of third graders, play is paramount, and given the choice, we played before we peed. As it turned out, I didn’t remember I had to pee till I was back at my desk after lunch. By then I was really dying to pee.

          I asked Mrs. Crawford if I could go to the bathroom. Her response was, “Why didn’t you go at lunch?” I just stared at her. I gave no response. I knew enough to know that playing wasn’t an excuse for anything. (Or at least that’s what we were led to believe back then.) After some silence she asked, “Is it an emergency?” Her tone suggested it couldn't be.

          This addled me. "Emergency" was a big word, bigger than its mere four syllables would suggest. It wasn’t just because I was only eight. I had only recently learned to speak English. “Emergency” was one hell of a word to digest. I had no idea what it meant. But I remembered where I had read it. It was on a red doodad in the hallway that had a latch. I remember seeing the word “emergency” and the word “pull” and the word “fire.” It may have had other words, such as “alarm,” but I don’t remember now. I just remember it said “fire” and “emergency.

         I couldn’t connect the words “fire” and “emergency” with my need to pee. What did a fire have to do with peeing?

       To Mrs. Crawford I finally answered “no” and she told to go back to my seat. I sat squirming for about half an hour until I couldn’t hold it any more. Then I let it go, and, man, did it go. It soaked both my inner thighs and reached all the way down to my shoe. I felt ashamed and relieved all at once. I sat soaking wet for about an hour, deathly afraid someone might notice I had peed my pants.

         When the bell rang to end the day I remained seated. I wanted to wait everybody out, hoping to walk out alone and unnoticed. All had gone but she; now the same woman who forbade me to go so I could go demanded I go. So, I went, trudging my way out the door.

        I’m sure she noticed my pants. I don’t think anyone else did because there was another kid who had peed his pants once and everyone made fun of him right in front of him. Or maybe they did notice and talked behind my back so I never knew. (Gossiping, by the way, is never outgrown.)

         When my mom got home from work and saw my school uniform she began fuming. The names she used for Mrs. Crawford when she found out why her eight-year-old boy peed on himself shouldn't be translated into English, the funniest phrase having to do with Mrs. Crawford’s mother and where babies come from, (though I still find the expression odd because all babies come from there).

         The next morning my mom was at the school. The parent-teacher-principal donnybrook that followed revealed a teacher who taught many third graders for whom English was a second language and didn’t understand that for these third-graders “emergency” was a difficult word, one they couldn’t connect with the idea of having to go to the bathroom.

          I don’t know if my fascination with words grew from that. I don’t think so. My guess is, though, that the psychoanalytically inclined would tend to think so. But I've been fascinated with words as well as simple and direct expression from an early age. My favorite book on grammar is in fact titled Simple and Direct. It’s written by Jacques Barzun, a true giant and one of the last who can be called “A Man of Letters.” If Mrs. Crawford had spoken to me simply and directly, and had asked, “Do you really need to pee?” much could have been saved.

          But why am I telling you all this. I guess I've just been babbling off topic. Peeing and grammar are not the subject matter of this website, (perhaps a future one, but not this one :)).This website is for pointing out some of the foolishness (and sadly, even some of the wickedness) of teachers and administrators who use their position to promote politics or abuse their authority (often the same thing but sometimes not). When professors put politics above the intellectual development of their students, it leaves me with a lot of pointing out to do.

           This block of time from my night is set aside just for the sake of doing some of this pointing out, which I try to do in extreme detail, getting to the root of the issue, finding some current research on the topics touched upon and explaining the philosophical significance of it all - without explaining the philosophical significance of it all, my time here would really be wasted, so I always strive to give the philosophical significance of it all. The pointing out sometines takes well over ten pages.

          Tonight’s subject was Professor Bodison, about whom I haven't been able to say a word in this post. When a professor conducts herself in a professional manner, teaching students the subject she was hired to teach them, rather than imposing her politics on students, then there isn't  anything to say about her on this website. So, sometimes nothing said is enough said. I wish every professor was a Bodison.





anonymous, on June 18, 2011 at 7:06 am

I would have let you go to the bathroom just because you were cute, but I'm pretty sure your teacher wasn't a bad person.


Leave a comment