it's not that i dislike this drama teacher. this man really keeps the drama program alive at that school. he does way more work than he is paid for and he is just an incredible instructor. he is one of those teachers that you don't want to let down, because he gets so disappointed in you and it fuckin hurts man. thing is, he can be a moody asshole sometimes. he made me cry once too. it was in grade eleven. during our tech unit, we were supposed to make these maquettes, these tiny little miniature set designs of whatever play we had chosen to do. i had almost no time to do it because my PT job at that time had out of nowhere turned into full time and i was dumb enough to think i had to keep pushing away even though i could've easily quit. so anyways, my maquette was a piece of shit, and he knew it, and i knew it, and he fuckin tore into me man.. he gave me a 42% and wrote on my paper that it looked like a "badly wrapped christmas present." i called him on his shit, i told him that it was insulting, that it wasn't constructive criticism, it was merely to humiliate me, and he said that my entire project itself was insulting to him. those were tough times.
but as much as an asshole as this guy could be, he had a passion for his art that i've never seen in any other person... ever. as i said, this guy would stay afterschool almost every single day, maintaining things, coaching people, doing tech stuff because he was the only competent teacher who could do it.. he was dedicated, he was hardworking, even when he had gallstones or something horrible like that he came back the NEXT DAY from surgery, even when he had fits of bronchitis he would still come in without a beat and marj would have to force his ass to go home. he was just so very smart and he never expected to discipline us kids, he just waited for us to mature so he could blab on about geeky drama stuff and once we were older, we could actually respond without sounding idiotic. he was a great guy to talk to about arts stuff. i loved writing journals for him because he allowed us to write about whatever we wanted, and so i just wrote very abstract stuff that made no sense, and he appeared to like it. i learned a lot from this man.
however, i also feel bad because he took the time out of his busy schedule to coach me for my ryerson audition last year, and i totally didn't show up for our last session because i felt so shitty and nervous about it and i didn't even want to show him what i had prepared, because i had prepared next to nothing. i didn't call him, i didn't tell him what was going on, i just sort of disappeared. and he never found out from me if i got in, and i never found out if any of my other peers had. i just ceased all communication. so i knew that if i were to bump into him again, the conversation would more than likely be cold and awkward and dead and totally not something i would like to experience.
i don't like running away from people like this. but when it happens it happens and then it just manifests in your head until it's something else entirely and you don't know what to do about it except turn away, pretend you never saw that person, maintain the neutral face, your eyes can't betray you, no flicker of recognition there. nope.
finally the bus pulled into the last stop, and he got up and turned around and... it wasn't him. it was a young man with higher cheekbones who looked slightly mediterranean. all that worry, for nothing.
but at the same time, it made me question me about my life, about the way i live it and the way i treat people. i want to be more honest with people. i have to stop running away. there's no fuckin point. there's simply no point at all.
