NEPOTISM

I remember learning the meaning of the word 'Nepotism" some time back in my early twenties.  It was around that time of my life when I was just beginning my teaching career. At that time Long Island, NY was desperate for teachers . . . there was a huge building boom in the suburbs and the tiny, quaint towns of Suffolk County were exploding with an influx of young families who were willing to commute an hour into NYC to work.  At that time I knew NOTHING about Long Island, other than it had great beaches along both shores and Lake Ronkonkoma smack dab in the middle.  So when I acquired a teaching job in Central Islip, 45 minutes from where I grew up in Queens, I was more than willing to commute and start my new career.  

Coming into an already established school district wasn't difficult because although "CI" had been around for years they were building new schools to accommodate the explosion in population.  Only thing was that the new school buildings weren't quite ready to open so I snared a position in one of the older elementary schools who had some teachers who had been working there for years. The school was on a split session schedule in order to handle the new teachers and the excess kids. (That lasted for 2 years until the new building was ready to open. )  The staff was a mix of brand new teachers who were into partying after school and on weekends and the old established teachers who had been there for years and were mostly related to one another.  Mr. So-and-so was the brother-in-law to the principal.  Mrs. so-and-so was the third cousin four times removed from the school superintendent.  Even my future husband, who had started teaching in the same school as me the precious year, was related to some one high up in the school administration.  The fact that Husband-to-be had never taken a single education class in college and had a bachelors degree in business did not stop him from being hired. 

 Husband loved to tell the story of how he had graduated from St. John's University with his business degree with all intentions of becoming a NYC cop like his father. When he failed the physical because of his medical history he kicked around delivering beer for a couple of years until one of his Brooklyn relatives suggested he contact a distant cousin or uncle who held some position in the Central Islip School System. Figuring it might be more lucrative than his present job Husband drove the hour out to Wheeler Road School in CI where he met his relative for lunch.  Being as desperate as they were for warm bodies in the overflowing classrooms, Husband was hired on the spot to teach 6th grade.  His question regarding this new career was, "What do I do?  I mean, I just have to stand up in front of a class full of kids and do stuff like a Nun?" (Husband had gone through the Brooklyn Parochial School system from first through college so teaching automatically made him think of Nuns and Brothers.) As it turned out, Husband was a natural and God had placed him exactly where he was meant to be.  Thirty six years later Husband retired from teaching Special Ed, which he had switched to about his third year of teaching sixth grade. This was what he had been born to do so if it hadn't been for that distant relative Husband might never have found his calling. 

THAT is Nepotism working at its finest !!!

Then we have Michigan Nepotism . . .   

This past week was interesting to say the least.  The Man's son, DJ, and girlfriend June arrived Thursday night and left yesterday, Friday, a week later.  They were GREAT !  DJ and June worked their butts off doing a multitude of chores that The Man had set aside for them.  They "shored" up two of the apple trees that were starting to lean too far to the left. (A problem many of our population seems to be having.) They cleaned out a bunch of stuff in the garage to take back to Alaska with them. They ran back and forth into town picking up and dropping off things. They worked hard !  And each time they had to leave "The Farm" they drove The Man's car. The Man was more than happy to let them use the car, as was I , because that meant I did NOT have to be running around all day. Win Win !! 

Except . . . you remember that septic tank I have written about?  The one that sits about 20 feet from the main access in and out of the house?  The one that I am NEVER, EVER supposed to drive over, near, around or within a four thousand mile radius ?????????     Guess what The Man's son did EVERY time he drove away from the house . . .   YUP !!    You got it !!      Where I have to back up the car from where its parked next to the door in order to avoid driving anywhere near the dreaded septic tank or suffer the wrath of Kahn, (AKA The Man),  DJ drove straight ahead over the damn tank each and every time !! And there were many, many trips away from the house in that weeks time.  

Had that been me I would have heard about it for days. No yelling or anything like that but stern warnings and     L-E-N-G-T-H-Y   explanations about why I can't drive over the stupid tank.  What did The Man do or say when his son drove the dastardly deed . . . NOTHING !  He said not one single thing to the boy.   

BUT . . . to me he said, and I quote, "I hate it when he does that".

And that folks is nepotism at its finest !