I think we should all observe a moment of silence for those poor men who taught in the classrooms in the late Sixties and early Seventies. These men had to stand before hundreds of young women wearing short skirts pointed at them day after day and somehow manage to compose themselves and deliver an education.

I’m sure many just splashed themselves with cold water between classes; others I assume were driven to drink. Thank God teachers could smoke in class back then – it took the edge off. With any luck, that job working for your father-in-law at the plant would work out, and you’d be free of this daily torture…. alas, for many, it wouldn’t be so easy.

As a salute to the male teacher during the heyday of the mini, here is a group of pictures dedicated directly to them. We appreciate your service.

Behold the view that greeted teachers each day. I’m sure it was a tad difficult to talk seriously about economics and trigonometry when staring into a sea of miniskirts.

There’s the argument that only a pervert would get all hot and bothered over his students. Consider the fact that short skirts hadn’t been around in a lifetime. The Roaring Twenties had a few, but the 30s, 40s, 50s, and much of the 60s were utterly devoid of short skirts. Then, overnight, classrooms were flooded with high hemlines… these poor gentlemen weren’t prepared for the onslaught.

Sure, it was hard on the fellow students (as we discussed in a previous Miniskirt Monday); however, the teacher not only had to deliver a lecture under these circumstances, but also had a vantage point that was far more distracting.

This highly trained expert in military history finds himself stumbling over the words “Battle of the B-B-Bulge”. It’s not one of his finer moments.

Perhaps some fresh air will get things back on track – or, at least that’s what this teacher thought. Sadly, it only brought the high hemlines into better lighting. This day’s geometry class was even more flustered and confusing than the last.

In another sad attempt to diffuse the situation, this teacher opts to sit among the class. Perhaps, standing at the front was the problem all along. The solution was so simple.

Be wary of simple answers to complicated problems. This just made matter worse.

Alas, some teachers just threw up the white flag and surrendered. This teacher found the only solution that worked: turn out the lights, sit in the back, and use an overhead projector. Student education suffered, but the teacher’s sanity and dignity remained intact.

Eventually, word gets out that teacher is having problems. There’s been talk of profuse sweating, unbearable stammering, and erratic behavior. And so, the cavalry comes in: the department head and the dean. They sit with the students to appraise the situation.

Suffice it to say, things go badly.

Perhaps those with the biggest crosses to bear were the typing teachers. Back in the day, no self respecting male took typing. Subsequently, life for a typing teacher was wall-to-wall minis, 8 hours a day. The photograph above was taken minutes before this teacher hurled himself out the window. A horrible tragedy.

This is a lovely class – but where’s teacher? The windows are shut, so let’s hope he’s just taking a much needed (ahem) “bathroom break”.

Okay, so we’ve established that the male teachers were distracted and driven to take their own lives. But what about those male teachers who were able to keep things presentable in front of the class? At the end of the day, they took a cold shower and polished off a bottle of gin… but they maintained their composure during class. Were there still issues they wrestled with? Impartiality was a huge problem…

Preferential treatment of minis was a huge issue to contend with. Who gets called on first – the plump boy with bad acne or the girl on the front row with the micro-miniskirt? I’m afraid, deference was paid to the mini all too often.

These girls are asking that their grades be raised. I’m sure they are offering a reasonable argument; but, in the end, it really doesn’t matter. Just like their hemlines, grades will be hiked.

Science teachers are supposed to be so logical and objective… yet, when it came time to demonstrate the Van de Graaff Generator, it always seemed to be a volunteer in a miniskirt. Probably just a coincidence.

Mr. Ramsey, the advanced calculus teacher, has a reputation for being strict and coldly objective. Yet, these girls have clearly cut in line, leaving poor James standing there like a fool. It seems Mr. Ramsey’s cold objectivity takes a backseat when miniskirts are involved.

Here we see Mr. Wilcox being handed a handkerchief. His heavy perspiration has been a source of daily embarrassment; today’s shame is particularly deep.

It goes without saying that life was no easier for certain female teachers. Ms. Richards has inadvertently read the same line of poetry six times. The class thinks her distraction is hilarious. Ms. Richards will spend her third period break softly weeping.

Note the full ashtrays on the teacher’s desk. What you don’t see is the bottle of whiskey in the bottom drawer. Anything to get you through the day.

Having the class recite from their binders is a slick way occupy them long enough to take a sip of something stout (or even breath into a paper bag for minute or two). You had to be quick and resourceful in the heyday of the miniskirt.

They don’t realize it, but Mr. Adams is signing his letter of resignation. Free at last! It was time to see if he could break free of these constant minis and start a new life as a bus driver.

DAMN!….