教員時代の思い出 (大失敗）
１０年ほど前、私は某私立男子校の教員でしたが、教師生命にかかわる大失敗をしでかしました。
当時、高校２年生を教えていました。第２回定期考査後の授業で、いつものように生徒に答案を返し、難しい問題は解説をして、解答を教えました。終業のチャイムが鳴り、授業を終えて職員室に戻りました。
６時ごろ学校から家に帰ろうと思った時、生徒に返した答案の点数を閻魔帳（成績表）に書き写してないことに気がつきました。大失態だ！ 全生徒の答案を回収しなくてはなりません。しかし、生徒はもう下校してしまっているのです。
(その後の悪戦苦闘ぶりは、以下の英文を読んでください）
A PERSONAL FOLLY
About ten years ago when I was a private boys’ high school teacher, I made an irreparable mistake which would have ruined my teaching career.
In those days I was teaching English to the eleventh graders. One day during my class after the second term examinations, I returned the students’ examination papers to them, gave them the correct answers, and explained some of the difficult questions. When the bell rang, I finished the class and returned to the teachers’ office.
At around six o’clock when I was about to leave school, I suddenly realized that I had not noted each student’s exam points in my grade book. I had screwed up. I needed all the students’ test papers, but they had already gone home.
I had nothing to do but to make a phone call to all 40 students. I called them one by one in the teachers’ office. I said to them, “I have made a mistake in marking the students’ papers. So you have to hand in your paper to me tomorrow. OK?” Obediently and without doubt about my tragic mistake, they told me they would do so. Some of the students were not at home. Instead, their parents answered my call. I told them to have their sons call me back at my house after eight o’clock. A few of them were worried and inquired if their sons had done something bad at school. This elicited Pavlovian-like responses: a call from school is a call for punishment. I told them it was not about their son’s behavior but about my examination.
At around six o’clock when I was about to leave school, I suddenly realized that I had not noted each student’s exam points in my grade book. I had screwed up. I needed all the students’ test papers, but they had already gone home.
I had nothing to do but to make a phone call to all 40 students. I called them one by one in the teachers’ office. I said to them, “I have made a mistake in marking the students’ papers. So you have to hand in your paper to me tomorrow. OK?” Obediently and without doubt about my tragic mistake, they told me they would do so. Some of the students were not at home. Instead, their parents answered my call. I told them to have their sons call me back at my house after eight o’clock. A few of them were worried and inquired if their sons had done something bad at school. This elicited Pavlovian-like responses: a call from school is a call for punishment. I told them it was not about their son’s behavior but about my examination.
Unfortunately, when I called Yamada (anonym), one of the slowest learners in the class, he said apologetically that he had thrown his paper into the school dust shoot. I scolded him for making light of the English examination saying, “Doesn’t it give you a good chance to review your week points in English? It was foolish of you to throw it away.”
As soon as I hung up the receiver, I rushed to the waste-collection shed so that I could reach it before the janitor burned the waste. It was a hot summer evening and getting dark. The door of the shed was not locked. I opened it sweating profusely. Suddenly an awful stench attacked my nose. It came from the mixture of thrown-away cup noodles, half eaten bread, rotten apples, eroded eggs, dirty tissue paper, old shoes, decayed milk cartons, used bags, broken umbrellas, old books, magazines, comic books, and all the other foul-smelling waste in the world. It was all the more stinky because of the summer heat. The waste was as high as Mt. Fuji. I had to find Yamada’s paper hidden in it. I squatted at the foot of the mountain and began to sort out the trash. I grabbed the waste bit by bit sorting it into a pile on my right. The left-side mountain gradually decreased and the right-side mountain became bigger and bigger. The work needed patience and a strong anti-foul-odor nose. I spent almost an hour sorting out the whole waste, but in vain. I thought Yamada had put his paper in a book or a notebook. So, I began to turn the pages of all the dirty notebooks and books in the right-side pile, but again in vain. I was disappointed and was almost suffocated to death. I needed fresh air. I wanted a hot shower.
I went home around 8 o’clock and called all the rest of the students who had been absent. Finally all 40 students except for Yamada told me that they would bring their papers to school the following day.
I went home around 8 o’clock and called all the rest of the students who had been absent. Finally all 40 students except for Yamada told me that they would bring their papers to school the following day.
The next day at the beginning of my class I collected 39 papers. After the class, I asked Yamada how many points he had gotten. He said, “13 points.” I said, “Are you sure?” He said, “Why, yes.” Thus I completed noting all the students’ marks in my grade book. I returned the papers during the following class saying, “Some of the students got additional points.”
None of the students have so far suspected that I had failed to note their exam points in my grade book.
None of the students have so far suspected that I had failed to note their exam points in my grade book.
This is a nice example of a personal folly. I think the pacing illustrates your building frustration and concern as the story goes along. You do a nice job of listing. "The Things They Carried" must have had a positive influence.
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