Buzz Off

When I reflect on my teaching days, it’s almost always about the kids. True, I have forgotten some of the hundreds of students I taught over the years, but there are some that have a firm place in my memory. This is a story about a guy everyone called Buzz. I won’t include his real name because I haven’t asked his permission to write this account…but I know he would be fine with it. That’s Buzz.

Buzz was part of an English 30-2 class which consisted of 33 students in block 4 of the day. None of them were particularly enthralled with English, but they were overall a fun group to teach. Buzz had a buddy I will call Lyle (he’s now a police officer and I haven’t asked him for permission either!), and the two of them, with their humour, could liven up an English class. For the most part I enjoyed their antics, but on this particular day, a Friday before a long weekend, I just wanted that 3:20 buzzer to turn us all loose.

The actual lesson had ended and I told them they could start on their homework assignment until the end of class, and most of them knew that meant they could do whatever as long as they were quiet about it. I was at my desk at the back of the classroom gathering work to take home, the students all facing away from me. This is vital to the story.

As I said, most kids knew how to survive this last 15 minutes, but not Lyle. He was in a mood, and was going to stir this boring class up. I had talked to him a couple of times, and luckily the class was not keen on going along with him. They, like me, just wanted to get to the end of the day. But Lyle persisted, and I was getting annoyed.

That’s where his buddy, Buzz, stepped in. “He’s not doing anything wrong,” he said, defending Lyle’s actions. Every class has a lawyer-the one who makes sure the teacher is fair and abides by the rules. I ignored Buzz, but that wasn’t going to fly either. He persisted. It’s also important to note that the seating plan is also crucial to the following event. Buzz was at the back of the row, and Lyle was at the front, a teacher’s long held strategy to split up troublemakers.

Finally, before the class could get into it, I turned to Buzz who was good-naturedly itching for a confrontation, and I mouthed, “Fuck off!” I added a little smirk to soften the blow.

Buzz was the only one who saw, and the look on his face was priceless. He cocked his head, and his eyes opened up like saucers. He gestured as if to say, “What? or maybe WTF?” I’m sure he was genuinely shocked as I was an older lady. I repeated my non-verbal communication, and he repeated his. I ended our interaction with a nod, and he acquiesced with a smile, and picked up his book. The classroom was quiet. 3:20 eventually came, and I had prevailed.

(I should say here, that I do not recommend this strategy in all cases; you must know your students, and who you can get away with this with. I admit I did not put that much thought into it at the time, but I lucked out, and Buzz did not scurry to the principal, nor to his parents.)

That, however, is not the end of the story. Several years later I had transferred to a school 50km out of the city, and was driving the two lane highway home on a Friday night. A truck came up close behind me, and then right beside me. It wouldn’t pass. I sped up and it stayed right with me, until I finally made eye contact with the driver.

There was Buzz. A big grin on his face. “Fuck off!” he mouthed to me! Yep, I saw what I saw. I did the “What?” gesture with an exceedingly shocked look on my face. He burst out laughing, as I did, and he sped up and left me ‘in the dust’.

I wonder how or even if Buzz recalls this story. I’m sure we will cross paths again.