Pigs, Sporks, and VW Bugs

This past week the newspaper in my town reported that nine seniors at a local high school had been caught trying to sneak into the building in the middle of the night to pull the traditional senior prank.

On this particular night, the deputy caught the kids in the middle of their mischief -- "Deputies checking the school for vandalism found toilet paper in trees, a golf cart propped on a second-floor railing, and bleach, detergent, chalk and Vaseline in the stairwells and walkways. Students had taken apart lunch tables in the courtyard and stacked them in front of doors and windows, according to the Collier County Sheriff’s Office." Five of them "were each wearing latex gloves, dark clothing and stockings over their head." According the to the paper, most of them were in the top ten percent of the class, and a couple were at the very top.

Oh please, will somebody please teach these kids some common sense and some common courtesy along with the calculus and physics? Just how stupid can you get? They were lucky they weren't shot.

As a recently retired teacher, I know that law enforcement agencies now use the summers to practice emergency drills in the schools. They prepare to deal with single gunmen and terrorists group. Columbine and 9-ll have sent a powerful message.

I can only imagine what the deputy thought when he encountered the five adult, masked shapes moving around the building. I know he called for backup; the kids are lucky he acted by the book.

Now all the kids are whining about the fact that is was only a prank and that pranks are a tradition. It's true; pranks are a tradition, springing from that universal urge of the young to spit in authority's eye one last time (usually close to graduation when kids think they are beyond the reach of school authorities). Pranksters in our town have:

• reconstructed a vw bug on one of our high schools
• planted a formation of sporks on the football field
• turned a pig loose in the school over the weekend
• set off fire extinguishers
• painted their mascot symbols on a rival school's sidewalk and walls
• set off stinkbombs

. . . and the list goes on, ad infinitum.

My chief objection to these pranks has to do with the janitors. I've known many of them over the years, and while certainly a few of them are annoying and somewhat lackadaisical about their jobs, the vast majority are decent, hard-working, soft-spoken members of the lower-income levels of our society -- people who really need the work, don't make very much money, but who are proud of their jobs and their contribution to the schools they serve. They are proud of their schools and the kids. The twerps who release the pigs, set off the stinkbombs and fire extinguishers, and generally trash the school are trying to say something to teachers and administrators. What they don't ever seem to realize is that teachers, and especially administrators simply call in the janitors (often very early in the morning, long before the school day begins) to clean up the mess. While the little jerks are sitting in class sniggering about pulling off their "harmless" little jokes, the janitors are in the hallways, choking on sinkbomb fumes or gagging on pig feces, and the administrators and teachers are going about business as usual -- with doors closed to avoid the unpleasantness. What a commentary on our students' lack of:

• foresight
• planning
• creativity
• consideration
• milk of human kindness.

So, students everywhere, if you really want to get in one last little jab at the figures of authority who have been the bane of your existence for your four years of high school, how about doing the job right?

• A good prank is very creative, with humorous irony and a bit of panache.
• A good prank doesn't cost the taxpayers anything.
• A good prank is not a disruption to school.
• A good prank doesn't make more work for janitors and maintenance people, often the lowest-paid and least-appreciated people in your school.
• A good prank isn't dangerous or mean-spirited.
• A good prank makes everyone laugh -- even at themselves.

Sounds impossible? Sounds like no fun? Then you haven't learned much in your four years in high school, even if you did pass all the tests; and you haven't learned that anything worth doing is worth doing well. You're not ready for college, and you certainly don't deserve to be "in the top ten per cent of the class."