Below
is a story that takes us back to the mid- 1970s. There is a book marketing lesson
here:
I was told, going into second grade, that my
teacher, Mr. Greenberg, was very strict, sometimes one who crosses the line and
gets physical with students. Though corporal punishment was a thing of
the past, it sounded like it could be a part of my future.
I didn’t know from such disciplinarians. My
parents didn’t believe in taking a belt to my older sister or me. Guilt,
isolation, or the withholding of privileges gave them enough currency to control
us.
My two prior teachers were young women who
mothered their students. But now I was on high alert to see if I had an
educator or a prison guard for a teacher.
He always wore a brown suit and tie, and stood
about six feet tall. He could have been five-foot-two, but to a seven-year-old
seated at his little wooden desk, his presence loomed large.
Neatly shaven, hair at a standard length, his face
was littered with tiny holes or pockmarks. Just looking at the mustached man
with a battlefield face could make a little kid feel uneasy.
Luckily, we hit it off well.
He was the kind of guy who challenged you and in
return you wanted to show him you were smarter and better. The unstated
competition made me a better student.
He would assign me extra homework when I breezed
through the curriculum. He was giving me fifth-grade math problems to solve. I
loved the smell of the purple-colored rexograph sheets that provided me with a
proving ground. My eagerness to learn and ability to play with this monster in
his playground, provided me a safe harbor.
He saw that I processed everything through numbers
and dollars. He nicknamed me Mr. Moolah, the Fijian word for “money.”
I felt a certain amount of respect came my way
from the most feared person in my elementary school.
But he was a man with a temper and a violent
streak. You can never forget that when interacting with him.
Rather than yell or put kids in the corner, he hit
kids when no one could see.
There was a kid, Robert, who was a troubled kid. I
found him funny but not bright. I guess my teacher wasn’t amused. On more than
one occasion, it sounded like Mr. Greenberg threw him down a flight of stairs.
You would be in class and the teacher would order
Robert out of the room. Then the teacher would go outside into the hall, which
was near a staircase, and you would hear the sounds of Robert bouncing down the
steps. A real commotion. The kid would come back in, looking disheveled and
unnerved. Dazed.
He would sit quietly and behave the rest of the
day. My classmates and I were on notice: Don’t cross the crazy teacher lest you
want to endure his wrath.
On numerous other occasions there was poor Rudolph
getting abused.
I think he came from Russia or some far-off land.
He was quiet and his compromised English fluency the product of growing up in a
first-generation immigrant household.
This kid dressed like he was in the old country.
He had on suspenders and wore what looked like an old cab driver’s hat. He had
on grown-up pants, not jeans; shoes, not sneakers.
Mr. Greenberg made it a habit of holding people
accountable.
He would call each of us up to his heavy wooden
desk and have us submit our homework.
Rudolph never seemed to have his homework in on
time. After the teacher would whisper-ask him for his homework, all too often
Rudolph would mumble apologetically in broken English that he had nothing to
give him.
Mr. Greenberg’s demeanor would suddenly shift, as
if a lion suddenly spotted its prey. He had this thing about him where he curls
his lips inwardly, revealing more of his now clenched teeth, and would say:
“You didn’t do your homework, Rudolph?”
It was as if a password was given and this machine
suddenly was suddenly operating in its top gear.
At that very moment, the teacher had grabbed hold
of Rudolph’s leg, hidden to us by the huge desk. Then, suddenly, you would hear
his knee hit the desk. And again. And again, yielding a symphony of whimpered
sounds and tears.
One day my turn came where inevitable
confrontation with this lunatic materialized.
I broke one of his many rules, the one even normal
teachers have: don’t tilt back your chair.
I had leaned back, perhaps for a few minutes, and
I suddenly noticed something stopped me from landing my chair forward. I
started to turn around and saw my chair had been snatched by the alien.
Suspended in midair, wondering what my fate would be, his beaten-up face came
close to mine, like a vampire looming one chin length away from its victim. He
whispered that I should never, ever do that again.
An invisible cloud of coffee breadth permeated the
air. It is something you can’t forget, that brief moment when you realize you
are helpless, that you could suffer some type of violence at the hands of one
that can’t be negotiated or reasoned with.
But it went no further and our exchange concluded
without me saying anything.
My chair was released and it never happened again.
Knowing I could have been a victim still leaves me
with an uneasy feeling. But I weathered the class and left feeling stronger,
smarter, and luckier.
Some years later I learned that he was fired and
arrested.
He actually is my all-time favorite teacher.
The book marketing lesson here is not that we
need to threaten people to behave, but when one has a teacher/mentor/coach to
guide them and push them harder to achieve more, we can rise to the occasion
and succeed. Find someone who can push you, challenge you, encourage you to do
more, and do better.
Please Contact
Me For Help
Brian Feinblum, the founder of this
award-winning blog, can be reached at brianfeinblum@gmail.com He is available to
help authors promote their story, sell their book, and grow their brand. He has
30 years of experience in successfully helping thousands of authors in all
genres.
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About Brian Feinblum
Brian Feinblum should be followed on Twitter @theprexpert. This
is copyrighted by BookMarketingBuzzBlog ©2022. Born and raised in Brooklyn, he
now resides in Westchester with his wife, two kids, and Ferris, a black lab
rescue dog. His writings are often featured in The Writer and
IBPA’s The Independent. This was named one of the best book
marketing blogs by BookBaby http://blog.bookbaby.com/2013/09/the-best-book-marketing-blogs and recognized by Feedspot in 2018
as one of the top book marketing blogs. It was also named by WinningWriters.com
as a "best resource.” He recently hosted a panel on book publicity
for Book Expo America. For more information, please consult: linkedin.com/in/brianfeinblum.
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