He could not paint, or write, or compose, or sculpt, or philopshize deeply, or design tall buildings. He had held no illusions about his own capabilities. He had, in fact, considered it the worthiest profession. He had simply wanted to teach, and he had considred taeaching a worth-while profession. He had not considered the security or the two-month vacation, or the short tours. He had wanted to teach, had honestly wanted to teach. Had Rick been one of these men? He did not believe so….

Or the men who were perhaps the worst, the men who sometimes seemed a little embarrassed, over having chosen the easy road, the road the security, the men who sometimes made a joke about the women not realizing they themselves were poured from the same streaming cauldron of horse manure. The simpering female idiots who smiled and agreed with the instructor, who imparted vast knowledge gleaned from profound observations made while sitting at the back of the classroom in some ideal high school in some ideal neighborhood while an ideal teacher taught ideal students. Oh he’d seen the meatheads, all right he’d seen them in every education class he’d ever attended. Or do you condemn the meatheads all over the world who drift into the teaching profession drift into it because it offers a certain amount of paycheck every month security ,vacation-every summer luxury, or a certain amount of power, or a certain easy road when the other more difficult roads are full of ruts? “Do you condemn the kids for not having been blessed with I.Q.s of 120? Can you condemn the kids? Can you condemn anyone? Can you condemn the colleges that give all you need to pass a board of education examination? Do you condemn the board of education for not making the exams stiffer, for not boosting the requirements, for not raising salaries, for not trying to attract better teachers, for not making sure their teachers are better equipped to teach?

The Blackboard Jungle by Evan Hunter