Miss Hoffman was no taller than the average height of her third grade students. Approaching or possibly having exceeded retirement age, she spoke in measured tones and walked slowly, yet purposefully, with perfect posture. She was, however, given to occasional outbursts of temper culminating in her grabbing a student by his collar as he sat at his desk, and shaking him vigorously – four times back and forth, four times from side to side and then twice up and down. The girls were exempt.
While punishment in Miss Hoffman’s class seemed to be handed out equitably in proportion to need, certain students received a rather large portion. Dennis Lazano, who had developed the art of complaining to heights previously unknown in Ohio grammar schools, was one such student.
Dennis sat in the row of seats nearest the cloakroom, and on this day he seemed to be having a rather animated problem with Billy Tucker who sat at the desk immediately behind him. Billy was the product of low class upbringing and a higher than average family income. He took great pleasure in pointing out the deficiencies of his classmates and proclaiming his own superiority.
Billy had spent the morning making mention of Dennis’ low score on a spelling test, noting the hole in Dennis’ shirt and commenting on the shape of Dennis’ head, which gave rise to the question of whether his parents had ever put his head in a clamp as punishment. Dennis was quite capable of defense and counter attack on this battlefield except that the logistics of his position required that he turn around in his seat to respond. Miss Hoffman perceived Dennis’ behavior to be so disruptive that within a period of thirty minutes, she was twice compelled to see if she could give him a whiplash. On the second occasion, he was directed to take the empty desk directly behind mine in hopes that the change of environment would make a difference.
Another fifteen minutes or so elapsed and Miss Hoffman charged down the aisle in my direction. I sank low in my seat as she approached. Much to my relief, Dennis apparently required another shaking (three times before lunch was a new class record).
Dennis’ fourth shaking ended when Miss Hoffman bounced him out of his seat, up the aisle and to the front of the room. She positioned him so that he faced the class in order that we could all have a good view of the humiliation to which he was about to be subjected. “Why can’t you behave?” she asked.
Dennis looked at the floor with a furrowed brow and said nothing. Miss Hoffman spoke again, “What is the matter with you?” Again Dennis refused to speak.
“I have asked you a question, and I expect an answer.”
Dennis shot a side-glance at her and said, “Ah, go to hell.”
“What did you say?”
She heard what he said. I was sitting in the back of the classroom and I heard it. Dennis stood his ground and remained silent.
“You go outside and stand in the hall,” she finally ordered, realizing that he had no intention of repeating himself. Dennis complied.
Miss Hoffman addressed the class with her standard speech proclaiming that we were young adults and should behave accordingly. Eventually she joined Dennis in the hall and a short while later they both returned to class. Dennis required no further discipline for the rest of the day.
On the way home from school that afternoon, Dennis picked up a dog pile and hit Billy Tucker in the head with it.
