At Edison Junior High, our 7th grade Metals Shop teacher was Mr. Connor, a strict disciplinarian. At the end of the year, Mr. Connor was promoted to Dean of Boys, the primary job for administering corporal punishment to miscreants.

That fall, he was replaced by Mr. Whitaker, fresh out of Northeastern in Tahlequah. He taught five sections a day of Metals Shop. In 8th grade 29 other miscreants and I were assigned shop first period, so it was also our homeroom.

Mr. Whitaker had a terminal case of “don’t give a ****”.

Thirty 13-year-old boys were given free run of the shop, essentially a small-scale metal fabrication facility. Most of us had a year of metals and wood shop under our belts, where we were taught beginning level projects focusing on simple plans and safe tool use. By contrast, Mr. Whitaker’s style was “free form” — like a mashup of Montessori method on a shop floor. Mr. Whitaker told us our assignment was to build something — anything — of our own choice.

One kid, a notorious hoodlum, had the idea to craft a set of brass knuckles. Mr. Whitaker’s only question: Did he plan to bend them out of bar stock or cast them?

Another kid planned to turn a working mini-cannon on a lathe. Mr. Whitaker didn’t give a ****.

No consideration was given to economic use of materials. At the end of the nine weeks all the bar stock was twisted like pretzels. 

Even less consideration was given to safety. Drill presses, lathes, hacksaws, cutting blades, a welding machine, soldering irons, and a blast furnace — what could possibly go wrong?

Six weeks in, all 8th graders were given a standardized test in their homeroom class. Mr. Whitaker refused to proctor it beyond insuring there was an adequate supply of No. 2 pencils. Let’s just say the test became a community project. Mr. Whitaker simply did not give a ****.

It would not be an exaggeration to say that of the 31 people in the classroom, Mr. Whitaker was not among the top 10 in maturity. Thirty of us were 8th grade boys, mind you.

First day of the second nine weeks, we had a new permanent teacher for Metals Shop. About that time our English teacher assigned a novel, Lord of the Flies. Suddenly our 8th grade Metals Shop experience started to make some sense.

We never heard from Mr. Whitaker again.