By the time I was a sophomore in HS, or perhaps early junior year, I was on a first name basis with the Asst Principal who was in charge of "discipline".
Among the many times suspended for 1-3 days, smoking while sitting on my buddy's fender waiting for him to get up to the parking lot to go home. I told Mr McGarvey the bell had rung, I was done with school and on my own time. I then found out about some little known (to me at least) that in our area the school was "responsible" for kids from the time they left their front door at home until they returned. I probably told him that was stupid rule.
Another time I wasn't even smoking. The school had to build an extension on the boys locker room when the enrollment got to big. Coaches and the eqpt locker dude couldn't see in there, so folks would go there and light up. I happened to get assigned a locker in there, was sitting on the bench tying my shoelaces, someone yelled "COACH" and the butts went flying everywhere. One landed between my feet. To the office I went. Told McGarvey it wasn't mine, wasn't even my brand. He said it didn't matter, if it wasn't this time, it makes up for the times I wasn't caught. Oh well, another letter to take home to Mom.
It was a good thing Dad left early as he never knew all the times I just stayed home after he left.
Catholic school? One of my earliest memories ever is getting lifted out of my desk chair by a pair of sharp fingernails wielded by a mean ol' nun. I haven't a clue what for, but I remember that to this day, from kindergarten. I have report cards with A's and B's in stuff I liked, citizenship and class comportment were in the "needs work" to the F range.
Later, once we moved out west, if something happened on the school grounds they couldn't quite figure out, the Mother Superior would show up at the classroom door and say "Mike and Geno, to the office now", as me and my buddy had the "rep" as once might say. Got in trouble once for something we didn't even do, kinda like my smokin' experience in HS. But, I think we did something worse than they falsely convicted us for, so it probably worked out OK.
Catholic school was smart though, they didn't suspend us, just gave us extra assignments, made us eat lunch in the Convent with the nuns instead of with our friends, but they would never give us time off from learning.
The desert is a true treasure for him who seeks refuge from men and the evil of men. In it is contentment In it is death and all you seek (Quoted from "The Bleeding of the Stone" Ibrahim Al-Koni)
One of my earliest memories ever is getting lifted out of my desk chair by a pair of sharp fingernails wielded by a mean ol' nun. I haven't a clue what for, but I remember that to this day, from kindergarten. I have report cards with A's and B's in stuff I liked, citizenship and class comportment were in the "needs work" to the F range.