Darrell Huckaby

Teaching school is a tough way to make a living. It is rewarding — but tough. It is especially tough in the spring time, if you happen to teach high school students.

As an aside, I am amazed to hear my colleagues claim to teach math or history or science or some other subject. If that’s your aim you are behind the eight ball to begin with. You’d better be teaching young people, first and foremost. But I digress.

If you teach high school students, as I do, you are about to be busier than a one-armed paper hanger in a wind storm. Is it still OK to say one-armed, or is that politically incorrect?

My point is, there is lots going on this time of year. AP exams will start in a week or so. Kids with such rigorous schedules should be spending lots and lots of time reviewing the year’s course of study and preparing for their tests.

That’s tough, though, because there are so many other activities going on this time of year. It is playoff time, for instance, for spring sports — and there are a lot of spring sports. Baseball, track, soccer, tennis, golf — you name it and somebody is leaving school early to go play it this spring. And there are spring musicals and band concerts and choral concerts and awards programs — not to mention try-outs for next year’s squads and teams. Oh, yes –elections are being held, too, along with final projects and research papers and — well, you get the idea. It’s a busy, busy time of year.

Please don’t hear something that isn’t being said. I am not against any of these activities or extracurricular pursuits. Making memories has always been an important part of life, from where I sit. High school is merely a microcosm of life and students make more memories in the aforementioned activities than in chemistry lab or math class.

I know, I went to high school, way back in the previous century.

And if there were not already enough distractions to worry about, we are also knee deep in prom season. Take it from someone who knows. Proms have come a long way since the 1960s.

When I was in high school our proms were held in the school gymnasium. It was a big deal, but not in the same way proms are a big deal now. The junior class was responsible for raising the money to put on the prom. Magazine sales and car washes and the like were the main sources of income, if my memory serves me correctly. Once the junior class had raised enough money to buy chicken wire and tissue paper and streamers for the decorations — and a little more to pay a local garage band to perform and a little more still to buy some punch and other light refreshments, all that was left was to decorate the facility.

Most guys had begun renting tuxedos for prom by the time I was a senior but many still showed up in white sports coats — with or without a pink carnation — and more than a few wore their Sunday suits.

Everybody drove to the prom in those days and I don’t recall anyone going out for a five-course dinner beforehand. I doubt if anyone in my class spent more than $50 on prom night.

I have chaperoned dozens of proms in my 38 years as an educator and footed the bill for my own three children to attend two or three of the events themselves. Let me assure you, it ain’t like it used to be.

The events are pretty much choreographed these days, beginning with the invitations. A guy can’t just go up to a girl and ask her out anymore. He has to come up with a spectacular and creative way to pop the question — as if he were proposing marriage. I haven’t actually seen a plane fly overhead pulling a banner with a prom invite, but I have heard of such.

Then there is all sorts of drama about who is going to be in whose “group.” The War Between the States was more civil than some of these negotiations.

The girls have to buy their dresses first because the boys’ accessories are required to match — and Henry Kissinger never made such deliberations as prom groups choosing their mode of transportation. Hang out in front of any prom venue and you will see all manner of livery and limousines that you didn’t know existed.

For many students the dance is merely an afterthought, overshadowed by the pre-prom photo session, the five-star restaurant for dinner and the post-prom party. Five hundred dollars is nothing for many of the kids to spend on prom night and a grand is not out of the question. Not for my children, understand, but for many.

Big sigh.

Oh well, all the playoffs and spring activities — and proms — will soon be over and it will be time for final exams and then summer vacation. Summers have been getting shorter and shorter lately, but I have a feeling this next one is going to be a long one.

My friend spent his teenage years in north Fulton County and was educated in a large Southern university — but his early years were spent in New York state, so he has had a lot to overcome. He has done quite well, actually, except for his leftist political leanings. I can forgive him for that, however, by simply smiling and saying, he just doesn’t know any better — bless his heart.

Having said all of that, I will say this. I was surprised when Jim Hauck came up to me Monday with a touch of bewilderment in his voice and asked if I had ever heard the expression “hasn’t hit a lick at a snake.”

Well, yeah. Is the Pope Catholic? Is fat meat greasy? Does a brown bear go in the woods?

Not only had I heard of the expression, I had used it in print within the previous fortnight. (I’ll save you having to look it up. It is two weeks.)

I think the most disappointing thing, to Jim, about my being familiar with the expression, was that his beautiful wife, Judy, had assured him that I would be — along with anyone else who learned to say y’all before they learned to read. Our happy little morning encounter, however, set my mind to wandering and I began to wonder about other expressions that I use in casual conversation that might cause folks from other regions to scratch their heads and ponder.

For instance, about 35 years ago I moved to deep South Georgia for a couple of years. I’m talking way below the gnat line, understand. The first week I was there I had several people tell me that they would be “out of pocket” for the duration of the coming weekend. I had no idea what they were talking about. I finally figured out that they all would be busy, unavailable or otherwise engaged. In other words, they weren’t going to help me move.

Nowadays “out of pocket” is a part of my everyday lexicon, especially when a friend — or one of my children — is going to move.

I started teaching school in 1974 and most of the kids I taught grew up hearing the same colloquialisms I was raised on. Not so, today. I can always tell when one of my students doesn’t get one of my idioms by the puzzled expression on his or her face. Of course in the super-charged politically correct educational climate of today, I couldn’t use a lot of the language I used when I began my teaching career — or the language my teachers used with me.

I can’t imagine what one of my students might think today if I threatened to “cloud up and rain all over you.” Back in the day there would be no doubt as to the meaning of that expression. I wouldn’t dare say to a student, “I’m going to jerk a knot in your tail if you don’t straighten up,” but I have been told that on numerous occasions. A few times I’ve had knots jerked in said tails, too — but never when I didn’t deserve it.

Colorful colloquial speech makes life interesting. We should use more of it and stop worrying about having to seem so sophisticated.

I went to school in the fourth grade with a man-child named Daniel Reed. On a class trip to Lake Spivey — ask a native — we had the good fortune to meet Officer Don Kennedy, of Popeye Club fame. He had on his uniform and whistle and everything. He shook Daniel’s hand and said, “How do you do?”

Daniel said, “I do as I danged well please, how do you do?” and then he blew Officer Don’s whistle, just to prove his point. I’ve never seen a more surprised celebrity.

My mama had a few expressions that I’ve not heard used very often. When she’d come in from a long day in the mill, all stove up from hovering over a stand of looms for eight hours, she would twist and turn and reach toward the ceiling and say, “I could stretch a mile if I didn’t have to walk back.” I didn’t really get it then, but I do know.

When I would ask for a ride to an event a mere mile or two away her response would be “walking ain’t crowded.” That would be inevitably followed by “you’d better light a shuck,” which I took to mean that I’d better get started soon.

Of course she had another expression of which I was not so fond. “If you don’t stop your whimpering I’ll give you something to cry about.” I think that one is self-explanatory. She would too. I wish I had a dime for every time I’ve had to go cut a switch.

Alas, television and the interstate highway system have made most of these regional expressions a thing of the past, but if I can make it through five more weeks of school, I promise, I won’t hit a lick at a snake all summer.

I know one thing. That stuff wouldn’t have gone over in Harper Valley!

I am referring now to the PTA scandal that was uncovered at E. Rivers Elementary School in Buckhead this week. That’s the Atlanta Buckhead, understand — not the deer hunting Buckhead in Morgan County.

It turns out that more than $53,000 went missing from the school’s Parent Teacher Association foundation. I first heard of the story Wednesday while watching the morning news on WSB, in hopes that Karen Minton would promise more rain for my parched yard and garden.

She didn’t.

When I heard the story two questions popped immediately into my head. One — if $53,000 was embezzled from the PTA, how much money was in their account to begin with? And two — how do you get a job at that school?

My mind also began to wander down memory lane — something it is more and more wont to do these days — to the PTA programs of my childhood at Porterdale School. Let me say this. WSB had a live feed of some moms walking into the PTA meeting at E. Rivers in Buckhead and I promise, none of the moms who walked into the Porterdale School auditorium in the 1950s looked anything like those ladies!

Once again I asked myself, “How do you get a job at that school?”

PTA night was a big deal back in Porterdale. Mill folks were serious about their children getting an education — and hopefully one that would not involve looms or twisters or breathing the foul air of the card room. I was admonished every morning to “mind the teacher” and “behave myself,” the general consensus being that if I did those two things, learning would take care of itself.

After 38 years as a classroom teacher, I can testify with complete confidence that the general consensus was spot on.

Since the parents in Porterdale were serious about their children’s educations, they were serious about doing whatever they could to support the school and the school’s faculty, and one of the main things they could do was become active in the PTA.

Meetings were held once a month. Attendance was always high. Cookies and punch were served and parents were urged to leave the children at home — unless said children were performing in some way, of course, or receiving an award.

I must have performed often because I don’t have any awards sitting around the house that I received at PTA and I remember going to a lot of meetings. Honesty compels me to admit that they were pretty boring affairs for the most part. Miss Jordy Tanner, our principal and the only person I have ever known with eyes in the back of her head, usually spoke and had a wish list of items she hoped the PTA could purchase or projects she hoped they could complete.

Jordy Tanner was wanting items like extra Popsicle sticks and library paste, understand, for crafts. I can assure you that she never asked for $53,000 worth of anything!

Once in a great while a bit of controversy might erupt during the meeting. One mother raised a big stink once because they couldn’t seem to keep toilet paper in the bathroom. She had sent a whole case to the school but her child’s teacher kept it in the cloak room and dispensed it as needed. The lady was upset because her child was embarrassed because he had to carry the roll of TP down the hall when he had to go and in her words, “Everybody who saw him knew why he was going.”

I was only 8, but even I was smart enough to know that if the dude was going to the bathroom during class he was going to do one of two things. Nonetheless, she started a big rigmarole at the PTA meeting.

Let me insert right here that I never had a problem with carrying toilet paper down the hallway of the school. In fact, I looked forward to it. We were still using pages of the Sears-Roebuck catalogue at the house.

The highlight of each PTA meeting was the room count. Each teacher would stand up and then all of that teacher’s parents who were in attendance would stand and be counted. There was a cash prize for the teacher with the best class attendance — to be used for supplies for the room, of course — and the competition was stiff. Miss Lucy Robinson’s room always seemed to win and my mama insisted that she must be bribing her kids with nickel cups of ice cream or something.

Life was a lot different in 1958. At least some school somewhere has an active group of parents and the good news is that most of the stolen money has apparently been recovered. I am glad, too, because you can buy a lot of Popsicle sticks and library paste for $53,000.

And I’d still like to know how you get a job at that school.

Finally — a bill I can believe in!

In case you missed the hoopla, Gov. Nathan Deal affixed his signature Monday to House Bill 861 which requires applicants for Temporary Assistance for Needy Families to pass a drug test — once — before receiving benefits. We are fixing to drug test welfare recipients, in other words. It’s about time.

But as Lee Corso would say–”Not so fast my friend.”

As you might expect, this new Georgia law has not been universally applauded. Go ahead and round up the usual suspects — the American Civil Liberties, for example, and the Southern Center for Human Rights — because they are threatening to file lawsuits against the state of Georgia and the new law and tie things up in court for years.

Civil liberties? Human rights? Which right do you suppose these organizations are championing? The right to use illegal drugs or the right to live on the public dole? I don’t think they will be able to make a case to convince me of either argument — particularly on the day that I filed my most recent income tax return.

Know what the first law ever made in what would become the United States was? “Thou who dost not work dost not eat.” Captain John Smith came up with that one and it was a humdinger. It saved the Jamestown colony from extinction. Somewhere along the line that law became “Thou who dost not work may sitteth on thy lazy arses while the rest of us feedeth thou.”

Save your breath and your ink. I am not against helping people who need help. I support our local food banks and all sorts of charitable institutions that help people who have fallen on hard times. I am merely against the government taking money from hard working individuals and giving it to dead beats — and anyone who has money to spend on illegal drugs doesn’t need my money to feed their family.

According to research this bill will save the state of Georgia almost $2 million a year by reducing the number of applicants for the program. They won’t even apply, understand, if they know they will have to take a drug test. The test costs $17, by the way, and the applicants are required to foot the bill themselves.

If you aren’t doing drugs you have nothing to fear. If you are, clean your act up and then apply. Sounds reasonable to me. And you only have to pass the sucker once.

Apparently there is a great disparity between what I find reasonable and what the ACLU and SCHR find reasonable. They claim that this new law is a clear violation of the Fourth Amendment.

Really? This is what the Fourth Amendment says.

“The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers and effects, against unreasonable search and seizures, shall not be violated, and no warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the person or things to be seized.”

These agencies are convinced they can find an activist judge who will declare that a drug test is a violation of the implied privacy of the Fourth Amendment. In the immortal words of former governor Lester Maddox, “Phooey.”

I think the key word here is “unreasonable.” This law does not profile or accuse or choose people at random. It is to be equally applied to all. If you want to ask the rest of the people to help you support your family I think it is perfectly reasonable for the rest of the people to ask you to prove that you are a law-abiding citizen who is not wasting the resources you have at your disposal on illicit drugs.

Goodness gracious, y’all. You can’t even play football at Georgia if you use drugs — at least not in the first couple of games. Why should you be able to eat at the public trough?

Our neighbors to the South passed a similar law last year. They were the first state to do so. It is currently under challenge in the 11th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals. A Florida judge suspended their law until the outcome of the appeals is determined. The opponents of the Georgia law claim that that is reason enough for the governor to have vetoed House Bill 861.

Bull feathers.

Our elected officials are charged with looking after the public trust. A part of the public trust is to spend the people’s money wisely. I think this is a much needed step in the right direction. Maybe one day we will realize that “we the people” are not entitled to spend other folks’ money and that “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness” doesn’t include the right to toke up while living on the public dole.

I know. I know. But a guy can dream.