FROM 2001 to 2010, I worked as an academic ghostwriter, helping students cheat in college and grad school. Inevitably, over a decade there were a few unsatisfied customers.

Once, I completed an assignment for a student in a teaching course. The objective was to create a single-unit lesson plan that could be implemented in a classroom of fourth-grade science students. I did my best, considering the last science class I attended probably involved a LaserDisc showing of “The Manhattan Project.”

Anyway, the customer did not care for my work at all. He requested a revision, noting that “I have reviewed the paper and I believe that it is poorly written. The professor will quickly see through the ‘excessive wording’ that I have no idea what I’m talking about ... Even though this is at the master’s level it does not have to consist of unnecessary use of wording.”

Clearly, this guy was going to make a great teacher.

During those years, I learned a lot about what you needed to know to be a teacher. I wrote lesson plans and developed “I.E.P.s” — Individualized Education Programs — for imaginary students. I even wrote up classroom observations — for classes I’d never been in, of course. In return, I was paid by would-be educators, developing teachers and even aspiring principals.