Among the Bachelors
August Kleinzahler
The cover story in this coming Sunday’s New York Times Magazine is entitled ‘Prep School Predators: The Horace Mann School’s Secret History of Sexual Abuse’. Amos Kamil, who left the school in 1982, names several teachers, including the headmaster, as pervs. I was at Horace Mann 15 years earlier than Kamil – class of ’67, near the bottom of the fifth quintile and a great disappointment all round – and knew a couple of them: one was waving his baton as a young music instructor and the other, a large boy, a few years older than I, Stan Kops, later became a teacher at the school. Poor Stan wound up killing himself. I believe he swam butterfly on the varsity swimming team.
As a seasoned old gent of 62 looking back, I’d say nearly half the teachers were ‘bachelors’: it was no secret what that meant. I suspect any number of them would have been quite thrilled to play pocket pool with us (aged 12 to 18). Naturally, some of us were more enticing than others, though there’s no accounting for taste. But I honestly don’t recall any ‘predatory’ behaviour when I was there – unlike some of Amil’s interviewees, I was never invited for gin and tonics or on camping trips.
One poor fellow made the mistake of bringing his camera to a junior varsity wrestling practice while Mr Quinn (‘Biff Quinlan’ in a couple of novels by Jack Kerouac, class of ’40) was elsewhere and wound up being fired, about which I feel badly, even today. I was one of those little fellas grunting and sweating on the mat, being photographed, and I have no doubt that Mr X would have had the pictures developed and enjoyed a wank, several, maybe even shared the photos with friends.
We all knew, pretty much, who was ‘a bit off’. Some of them were good teachers, some less good, some sweet-natured, some sadists. I ran across one of the more obviously gay former Horace Mann teachers out here in the Bay Area years ago, now retired, a lively teacher and admirable man in most regards, if a bit expressive in manner. He had taught my older brother, who was a beautiful-looking young thug of a boy, and me. Mr Y was quite emotional. He may have even given me a buss on the cheek. ‘I cried and cried, Augie, when I heard of your brother’s death. He was such a lovely boy. I always kept a picture of him on my desk, you know.’
Comments
There was a teacher who offered to supervise Saturday morning sessions in the school pool on condition that the boys swam in the nude; it's hard to imagine that his motives were entirely pure (he wasn't even a PE teacher). The swimming sessions were stopped, but there wasn't much of a fuss; he was a good teacher, apart from anything else. As far as we were concerned, the idea of teachers taking an unhealthy interest in us was a running joke that nobody really took seriously; teachers were singled out as suspect more because it was funny than because we actually suspected anything. (There were most jokes about a teacher who we knew to be married with a family; he even had a son in our year.) Some teachers did occasionally use corporal punishment, and some of them may have taken a bit too much relish in it, but we just thought it was part of school life; you never supposed that such and such a teacher might genuinely fancy boys, any more than you imagined that John Inman actually was gay. When push comes to shove, as it were, I never heard of any boy actually being molested (as we said then); certainly I was never approached myself, which is more than I could say of my first year at Cambridge.
At the same time i don't think any of us had any concerns that this was somehow sexual. We were probably more than a bit naive, and i mean that in the best sense, yet even now at the age of 65 i still think it will remain a mystery that really was without evil intent.
I find this piece deeply unsettling, because a series of juxtapositions appears to suggest significant links between homosexual teachers and the sexual abuse of their students. Perhaps that was not what the author intended. Perhaps it never really occurred to him in those terms. But the fact is that homophobic associations between homosexuality and paedophilia persist, gathered together under the umbrella of 'deviant sexuality'. These associations are more frequently implied than they are articulated these days, but they have certainly not disappeared.
For that reason, much as the author might never have had any intention of implying such a link, it would be welcome if he could clarify his view.
I hope very much that I have got it totally wrong, but it would be nice to know for sure.
You can have fond memories of a place or a person, yet also condemn the things that went on that were wrong. Amos Kamil is very careful to provide a nuanced and balanced account. He includes evidence of the ways in which grooming has such a devastating effect by making the child feel complicit and even ‘loved’, although this is no love. This is made clear in the fact that ‘M’ attended the funeral of the teacher who abused him (yet treated him as special, including with solo trips to Europe), struggling to understand why he wanted to go. He said, “Still, today, after the drinking and the heroin and the therapy and the battered relationships, I just can’t bring myself to fully hate the man who gave me so much.” I hope August Kleinzahler can look again and realise how much damage those teachers did – including to him if he feels sorry for a teacher fired for taking pictures that the author presumes would have been used by the teacher and his friends to enjoy “a wank”.
Equally Mr K seems quite sanguine about the prospect of a teacher taking photographs of pupils in order to wank over them .. and oh yes, pass round his friends to do similar. I doubt this pose would hold if he found out that any of his own children were the subjects of such polaroid gratification. In those circumstance, well before a hat had time to hit the ground, most parents would be taking fairly swift action - which might well include lawyers and therapists, but I suspect that wouldn't be the entirety of the response .
Some of us also came away from school with the distinct impression that those relationships which did occasionally develop between teachers and pupils did not always involve the latter being "betrayed, abused, molested, and violated" by the former. Indeed, the negative side of such a liaison was more likely to arise from the jealousy it engendered in less-favoured lads (such as myself, naturally). But that is such an unfashionable notion as to be almost literally unspeakable today...
However, it was better than being born in Post Colonial Africa!