That time Mr. Bundy slapped me with his ruler…

Ninth grade.
Freshman.
Intimidating.
Terrifying.
Humiliating.

It’s hard to think of too many good things about your freshman year in high school. You are the new kid. Every single one of you. You are the underling, the minion to all of those sitting in their ivory towers in the upper classes. You know who you are…

I hated it.

The Sweetheart likes to tease that I hated school altogether. That is not true. I loved school from first to seventh grade. (Yes, to all of you under 50 or so, kindergarten was not required in the early sixties!) All in the same building, secure, close to home, small town, you get the picture. But eighth grade brought with it many changes and our beloved school, where I had been privileged to have the same second grade teacher as my dad, was closing its middle and high school wings.

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Smithville School was known for its unique mascot, a Skibo. If you don’t know what a Skibo is I invite you to read my post about them here!

Redistricting, they called it. We called it separation; the end of friendships and lifelong relationships. Granted, twelve and thirteen weren’t very long lives but to us it was a huge adjustment that caused much anxiety in our pre-teen minds.

Eighth grade was hard enough. The new school was actually brand new and a literal big deal in our town. This building, to a kid, (and even to me today) looked like a prison. Meet Lora L. Batchelor Middle School.

Modified-middle-school-bachelor

I rest my case.

But we persevered and conquered and were promoted on to Bloomington High School South.

B-South

Enter Mr. Bundy.

This gentleman was older, in my eyes he was 70 or above but I am sure he was only in his late 50’s or early 60’s at the time. He was tortured mercilessly by his students. It was actually very sad and truly, even though he definitely wasn’t in my Top Ten of Favorite Teachers, I did feel sympathy for the way he was treated.

A typical 40 minute class went something like this for Mr. Bundy.

Write our science lesson on the board.
Be pelted with spit wads from the back of the class. 
Give lecture on lesson of the day.
Be pelted with paper wads from the back of the class.
Give homework assignment for the next day.
Be pelted with erasers, paper wads and spit wads from the back of the class.

He would turn around slowly and say, “Who did that?” (I wish I could aptly convey his drawl as he muttered it every time.)

The kids would all laugh, and of course no one would confess, and on he went with class.

They called him names when he wasn’t looking so he wouldn’t know who did it, they at least knew he had some power and there would be consequences if they were caught.

Spit wads, paper wads, pencils, erasers, you name it, they threw it.

Every.
Single.
Day.

If Mr. Bundy thought he had snagged himself a perpetrator, he would saunter up to them, get right down in their face and with breath that would make a dragon proud he would say, “Do you want to go out in the hall?”

That was his threat and he actually carried it through many times. Some even were sent to the principal but would only receive a scolding and go right back to their sinful ways.

Be it known right here, I was usually very quiet and well-behaved, for the most part. I didn’t talk back to my teachers or elders. Unfortunately, I was a typical teenager and did back-talk my parents. I regret that. But that is another post for another day.

I knew better than to throw paper wads, spit wads, etc. and would never holler anything out in class.

Meet The Biggest Chicken in our Freshman Class.

I was terrified of being called out or getting in trouble for anything.

So, one fine day in Mr. Bundy’s Science Class, circa 1976, I was minding my own business, quietly sitting next to one of my best friends since first grade, Julia, when Mr. Bundy came up beside me and slapped me on the wrist with his ruler!! What had I done?? I’m the good one, the quiet one, the almost-on-your-side average student.

With terror in my eyes I looked up and had the nerve to ask, “What did I do?” Squeaking all the way lest he hit me again.

“You were humming!! I don’t allow humming in my class! Do it again and you are out in the hall.”

I was humming? I didn’t even realize I was humming but Julia said I was, although since she could barely hear me I am not sure how Mr. Bundy, in his ancient state of decline, had heard me.

I was humiliated, embarrassed, hurt, disgraced, shamed, etc., etc., to say the least.

Mr. Bundy

My reign had come to an end. The good little girl had received her first demerit in all of her almost-nine-years in public school. What was this world coming to when you couldn’t absentmindedly hum in class? (smile) Humming meant happiness and our class sure needed some of that.

Today, parents would be in the school office so fast Mr. Bundy’s head would spin but back then it was not usually a big deal unless he had left a bruise. (I am pretty sure I had a red mark for hours!)

With tears in my eyes and my head down I went back to work. I’m not sure what all went through my 14 year old mind that day but I don’t remember being angry at Mr. Bundy. I was upset with the rest of the class. I was mad that they pushed this man to his limits every day and didn’t care. I wasn’t perfect by any means, I laughed sometimes too. But Julia and I always wondered what his real life was like? (Julia would never say anything bad about anyone!) What made him the way he was? More importantly, when did the abuse from the students begin? It wasn’t with our class; it had gone on for years, a rite of passage, so to speak?

What causes us to demean others and make them feel unimportant and under-appreciated?

And most importantly, am I still guilty as an adult? Jesus Christ said, “…whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.”  Matthew 25:40.

No, I do not.

But the Bible is very clear about our attitudes and our actions.

“Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.” Colossians 3:13.

“Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.” 1 Thessalonians 5:11.

What if that person is difficult, hard to get along with? We wonder why we have to put up with them at all. God may allow these people in our lives to build character in us, to learn, grow and become more like Him through our difficulties and trials.

“But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality and without hypocrisy. Now the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.” James 3:17-18.

“If it is possible, as much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men.” Romans 12:18.

No matter how they treat us, how ugly or spiteful, Jesus said to strive, to try with all of your might to live peaceably.

We can only accomplish that when we know Him, spend time with Him and endeavor to be more like Him.

So if you have a Mr. Bundy in your life, do your best to realize his life might not be going the way he would like and your kindness, your smile, your attempt at Christ-likeness, might mean the difference in his day…or even his salvation.

Kingdom2

Do you have your copy of my new book The Daniel Fast Devotional?  It’s available in paperback at Barnes and Noble online and also in paperback and kindle on Amazon! Great for any fast, it has 21 days of devotions, three days of preparation devotions before your fast and lots of great DF approved recipes. A handy tool to keep with you all year long. Be blessed!

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Sharing with #livefreeThursday, Hearts for Home, Coffee for your heart, Thought provoking Thursday, Family Fun Friday, Fellowship Friday, Grace and Truth, Making your home sing, Good morning Mondays, Amaze me Mondays, Modest Mondays, Living Proverbs 31, Little r & r, Homemaking Party

 

20 thoughts on “That time Mr. Bundy slapped me with his ruler…

  1. Candace Jo Post author

    Oh my! He lost his job! That would definitely happen today, and I’m not arguing it wasn’t abuse, I sure thought it was 🙁 What a strange coincidence and so happy to meet you too. If you write about it be sure and let me know, would love to read your account. Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing your story too. God bless!!!

  2. rhondaq

    I had to just laugh out loud when I read this blog title and clicked over to see if it could be true. I too was hit by a science teacher with his ruler. I’ve thought to actually write about it. Fortunately for the man, who lost his job and went into trucking after the incident, I don’t even remember his name. What a great thing to meet you because of a thing like that. That would be God! You are really darling and I’m just thrilled to read your words. xo

  3. Candace Jo Post author

    I don’t either but several have mentioned her. So glad we have connected, forgive my absence the last few days. Pray you have a blessed week! ♥

  4. Candace Jo Post author

    Oh my word! What a small world! I am glad you clicked on it too 🙂 Do you remember Mrs. Bundy? I think she was there too but I never had her. Thank you so much for stopping by. I am heading over to check out your place! ♥

  5. Sharon

    Yes, I had an English teacher in 9th grade named Mr. Shull – and yes, the students were really, really mean to him. Part of the trouble was that I wasn’t, and he made a point of that. Consequently, I can remember being teased myself because I wasn’t teasing him. Make sense? I still feel bad for him.

    I suppose it’s in our (sinful) nature to make fun of people and to demean them – perhaps in a backward way of making ourselves look better. Sometimes, too, I notice that there’s a *mob mentality* that sneaks in.

    This is NOT what Jesus would do. He befriended the friendless, the outcasts, the marginalized. And He calls us to do the same.

    GOD BLESS!

  6. Cheryl @Treasures from a Shoebox

    I am so glad I clicked on your link today! I recognize “The Prison”, for I too attended Bachelor Middle School from 1975-1978 and onto BHSS through graduation in 1982. I never had Mr. Bundy, but I do remember the poor soul.

    I’m so glad to meet you! (And I’m your newest follower)

  7. tmpresser

    This is a great post. It is true sometimes we don’t know what people are going through and why they behave the way they do, but we should still love them and treat them with respect. Thanks for sharing at Good Morning Mondays. Blessings

  8. Candace Jo Post author

    Oh my word! That is too funny! Maybe he had a twin, lol. Thanks so much for sharing today. Blessings.

  9. Arabah Joy

    We had a Mr. Bundy too and his name actually was Mr. Bundy! We treated him the same way. Sad. But I was the good girl too and really, I felt sorry for the man. He did send me to the principle’s office one time for bending down and picking up my pen off the floor… You’ve brought back the memories! Thanks for linking up at Grace and Truth 🙂

  10. Candace Jo Post author

    Thank you Dawn for taking the time to comment! You said some good things here today. Blessings!!! ♥

  11. Candace Jo Post author

    Everyone had a Mr. Bundy or Ruby I think 🙂 Thank you for Grace and Truth and your ministry. Blessings!

  12. Candace Jo Post author

    Doesn’t it though?? It’s still here, in all its glory. It was one of the first school’s, if I remember correctly, that went with the “open concept” where there were sliding partitions between each class with the intention to open them up and have us all learn together. 🙂 That’s what I remember. It was very controversial at the time, ha. I actually think they did away with that over the years. It was a good school just intimidating! Thanks for coming by Hope in the Healing!

  13. Candace Jo Post author

    So true, Angel! Build them up or tear them down, Lord help me. Thank you for taking the time to comment. ♥

  14. Candace Jo Post author

    Helen, I think all too many have stories like ours! Asking for a pencil? Wow. Obviously I never forgot it either but thankful it didn’t scar me for life. But I agree it sure hurt at the time! Thanks so much for stopping by. ♥

  15. Dawn

    Yes, too often we forget to think that those who are hardest to love, are often the ones who need it the most, and are those who have something that is causing them to act in an unlovable way. This was a good story in illustrating this point.

  16. Leah Adams (@PointMinistries)

    What a post….so full of truth, and more than a bit of conviction. We had a Mr. Bundy when I was in school, although he was a she, and she was a substitute teacher named Ruby. Poor thing. Thank you for the reminder to consider how we treat others. So glad you linked up with us today at Grace & Truth. #gracetruth

  17. kristine

    That picture of your middle school literally made me laugh out loud. It does look like a prison! As a teacher, I can totally appreciate your story. Seeing one another with empathy and kindness is a hard lesson to learn, especially for teenagers. (Oh yes, I was quite a stinker back in the day.) Blessings to you!

  18. Angel Buff

    Too often we forget how much we can affect someone. We have the power to build into people, or to tear them down. I pray that I would always speak life and hope into others.

    Thanks for sharing your story and your thoughts – a great explanation.

    Blessings.

  19. Helen

    I could have written this exact same story just changing the names and dates. I too was thrapped on the wrist for asking for a pencil for goodness sake!! lol! Yes, we so need to be aware of what others are going through……but you don’t expect a 14 yo to be mature enough to realize that. I have never forgotten my hurt…..my teacher was actually a personal friend of the family. Since that time, I have come to realize I absolutely needed that “come-uppance” as we used to say. But boy did it hurt at the time! Thanks for sharing and bringing back an important issue.

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