Monday, July 11, 2011
When putting together a reunion of June '63 Carleton grads, one question was who our favorite teacher was. The overwhelming favorite was Miss Conflitti (I was one of those voting for her). Ironic that she passed away on my birthday. I recall one day I yawned in class and she asked if I was bored. Unable to discern a rhetorical question at the time, I responded, Yes (it happened to be true but that was not a knock on her teaching). She suggested that I go to the principal's office to share that information, which, being taught to do what a teacher said, I did. The principal launched into a tirade about how I was blessed with such a great teacher and was out of my mind to be bored (or something to that effect). Duly chastened, I returned to class and reported what had happened. Miss Conflitti was aghast at how things spun out of control and apologized profusely, confirming what a classy person she was.
