Teachers: An Exposé

I'm writing this post to put a long-lived conspiracy to rest. This revelation will save the egg-shell thin egos of countless elementary school students from now until eternity. I myself fell victim to the treacherousness of this hoax as a child, and, now that I've found out the truth, would like to shed light upon the subject.

This weekend I was enlightened with some information that, when you think about it, could really be considered quite obvious. The bottom line is this: teachers fart and blame their students.

All throughout my school life, teachers served as icons of authority and sources of infinite knowledge. I held most of them in high regard, unless their attitude or personal presence gave me reason not to do so. The overwhelming majority, you could say, I had the utmost respect for. This respect, it's sad to say, is the root cause of my naivety.

We all know the setup. Some of us fell victim, becoming the harassee, while others took on the role of the harasser. At this moment, let's take a view from the eyes and ears of the harassee. You're sitting in a classroom on one of the first days of school, unsure in your societal role, unsure in your own skin, unsure of your coolness factor, but fearing it could very well fall somewhere between zero and negative five hundred. The chants, taunts and accusations begin, seemingly out of nowhere. "EWWW!!! Johnny farted!!!!" By the way, you're Johnny. Children all around you clothes-pin their noses with their fingers, waving their free hands violently across their face in an attempt to dilute or extinguish the nasal sting of fecal air.

What? you ask yourself. How could this be? I don't remember farting. I don't even smell the fart. Could it be possible one slipped out without me hearing it, feeling it, smelling it? No, that's not possible.

"No I didn't!" you shout back, clearly mortified and now visibly embarrassed, your face the color of the apple on your teacher's desk. Sadly, your retort is of little value. The damage has been done - the stone already set. You farted, whether you did or not, and now the world as you know it knows about your slip-up. The slip-up you are not even responsible for.

Your teacher is the only person to provide solace, although solace never silences twenty seven-year-olds. "Now, now, boys and girls. Sometimes these things just happen; it's part of nature. Sometimes you accidentally burp, and sometimes it comes out the other end. It's not a big deal, leave Johnny alone." You're appreciative of her meager attempts, but you know her words will fall on forty deaf ears.

Years later, you ponder this moment - the moment that set off years of social discomfort and memory repression. Who could it have been? you continue wondering. It could have been the class bully, who was the one unfortunate enough to catch the first whiff (or at least the one who initially decided to blame you). It could have been the quiet girl sitting next to you - it looked like she shifted to one ass cheek moments before the incorrigible events unfolded anyway!

What you'll never know, though, is that it was your teacher. Your teacher farted, and let you take the fall. How clever. In a room full of seven-year-olds, who expects the only icon of authority to be the one making stinkies?

My source, who asked to remain nameless, is guilty of this exact situation on two occasions. My source is not a student, but a teacher. She has twice caused other children to experience these feelings of complete and total embarrassment, the kind where they'd rather crawl in a hole and die. And she laughs about it. At least, however, my source filled me in on this phenomenon, easing years upon years of social dysfunction brought upon by this exact scenario.

When you think about it - it makes sense. How often did you really fart in elementary school? Probably close to never. Farting was the most disgusting thing you could do (unless you were hanging out with your friends outside of school, of course), and was heavily mocked. It was probably extremely infrequent that a child was actually responsible for a well-announced fart. When you wanted to make an obnoxious noise inside the classroom, the tool of choice was your mouth, not your ass.

I can only hope that this discussion can provide the help and reassurance that the next innocent little Johnny will need. I know I could have used it.