3.01.2005

Hot for Teacher

When I was a wily undergrand--the salad days of my capricious youth--I once took a class from a teacher with the same name as a popular softdrink.

I developed a crush on this drinkable prof. I carefully planned out my outfits each week so that my cutest, most attractive clothing landed on our class days.

I chewed on the stem of my tortoiseshell eyeglasses thoughtfully, made crinkled facial expressions while he talked. The key: I rarely spoke in class. I hoped this enhanced my air of mystery.

And then one day, running into my prof on campus, I said something harmlessly flirtatious and charming (also rehearsed). Picture me sitting outside a campus building in autumn, chunky scarf wrapped haphazardly around my neck, the smell of burning leaves in the air--my head tossed back in a laugh, a freeze frame. Careless afternoon.

And then he flirted back.

Oh Lord, I didn't even know what to do.

It was exciting and scary at the same time. I wondered if I would be able to get an A in the course (it was, also, the most difficult college course I ever took), and yes, if I would get an A in...other things. I continued my flirtation, but more carefully.

In the end, I met a boy closer to my age and foolishly began dating him instead. I never did let my teacher down easily--I just sort of vanished the way students do...into the administrative ether.

My question is, though--as teachers, have you ever been Hot For Student?

Don't use your real name for protection. Or tell me about a "friend" of yours who was Hot For Student once.

4 comments:

  1. Shoot, now I'm racking my brains thinking of popular softdrink names your prof might've had...Dr. Pepper? Mr. Pibb?

    I didn't teach long enough to get the hots for any of my students, thank God...but I had a sitch similar to yours. I'm a freshman; he's a grad TA in the MFA poetry program...he singles me out as a poetry person: the rest of the class read Dracula, he gave me Rimbaud, Baudelaire, Mallarme (is that legal?). I transfer, come back to visit when I'm 18 (I started college early), wearing a lot of eyeliner and a shirt that's see-through depending on how I sit. He buys wine; we go to his place; he breathily reads me some Leslie Scalapino (Hejinian might've worked better). I realize I'm out of my league and keep inching away. Frustrated, he goes to his closet, pulls out an old baseball cap, plops it on my head, and says, "That's better." Such an Imagist way to show disdain for my putting-it-in-the-window-but-not-being-prepared-to-sell...

    best,
    em
    poesygalore.blogspot.com

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  3. I've only taught high school, so I'm going to refrain from any sketchy commentary.

    However, I did have to deal with a share of flirtatious students. My colleagues enjoyed bringing the student crushes (male and female) to my attention and repeatedly reminded me never to be the only person in a classroom with a female student.

    I will say that the most endearing were those students that weren't native English speakers. They were often the hardest workers and the most intelligent.

    No TILFs to speak of.

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  4. When I was student teaching and doing some camp counselor stuff, I was only three or four years older than any of the students.

    So many of the girls had crushes on me, and they were not shy at all about owning up to it. The guys were a little more shy, but there were a few.

    I had one of those adoration/idolize/hero worship crushes on my high school band director. Still do, I suppose. Oh, well, I've never admitted that before. Bloggers for truth-telling!

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