The Mini-Skirt English Lesson
It was 1986, I was teaching an English class in a Senior High School on Long Island.
I was actually a Foreign Language teacher - French, German, Latin - but through a series of what I considered unfair administrative reassignments I found myself in front of an English class.
It was a class of twenty-seven, twenty guys from the football team, and seven girls who were football team admirers. None were interested in English, besides that they were Seniors!
Teaching French or German or Latin is very different from teaching English. In the former, you teach structure; in the latter, you teach literature and analysis.
So, here I was standing, The Great Gatsby in hand, trying to have them read it, understand it, and grasp its deeper meaning. A girl said, “I didn’t even understand the first paragraph.”
Oh, my, I thought, what shall I do? They simply did not do the reading. I asked questions. No answer. I scolded. No reaction. I threatened. No effect. I gave short-answer tests. They objected. “Don’t give us “think questions.” Give us multiple choice.” It was frustrating. It was aggravating. I would walk into the class and hit a brick wall of muted silence. I asked them why they did not do the reading. Their answer was that they all worked after school, would come home around 10 o’clock, and were too tired to read anything. They were saving for the Prom. What nice American kids. The High School Prom - a Rite of Passage.
I began to worry. There would be a Departmental Final, and the majority of the class would not pass, which would be bad for them and a reflection on me. I was initially told that this was a difficult class.
What to do? How to solve this dilemma? Then, I thought of the old saying about Mohammed and the Mountain and decided that since they were not reading, I would do it for them. In my mind, the most important thing for them was to absorb the material and pass the class.
On a Spring morning, I put on a royal blue leather mini-skirt, a tight black cashmere sweater, black tights and very high stiletto heels. Click! Click! I came into class. All eyes were fixed on me. I said:
“This is what we are going to do. Since you are not reading the books we need to cover, I will tell you what is in the books - the content, the meaning, the symbolism. All you have to do is listen! If you pay attention, you will pass the Departmental Final. If you do not listen, you will probably fail. I am doing this for you, to help you, so that you pass, so that you enjoy your Prom, and your summer.”
So, every day, I walked back and forth, in front of the class, “Click!” Click!” Talking about The Great Gatsby, Camus’ The Stranger and its Existentialist theme, and the other books on the curriculum. I found some film versions of the books. They all passed the Departmental Final. The lowest grade was a 75. My colleagues were amazed: “How did you do that? They were such a difficult class.”
I answered, “A professional secret.” Click! Click!
Giedre Kumpikas
East Hampton, New York
August 14, 2026
