If any nooses would have been present, they would have been around my neck.
Imagine a middle school where every door has armed security guards standing there, with an attitude that makes the most dour TSA screeners look like Puff the Magic Freaking Dragon. Now imagine the first thing they tell you is “don’t leave ANYTHING in your car, 'cuz the kids will break in to get it.” When you ask why they don’t watch the cars, they laugh.
Now imagine that the main entrance to the school has a full x-ray and metal detector combo, set on “scream if you find a paperclip” sensitivity, and that you and half a dozen senior Engineers from a respected local company are having to partially strip down - all the while there are the catcalls of the students, who clearly are allowed in the halls between classes.
Now imagine that you get led to every classroom by armed guards, who somehow don’t want to take on the students lounging in the halls, probably because the testosterone-shooting “boys” are bigger than the guards. You go in and are introduced by a teacher, facing a class that is in open rebellion. While the teacher tries to calm them down, unsuccessfully, you try to go into your 5-minute intro of what an Engineer does. But it’s hard to hear, because the kids are yelling and war-whooping and even play-fighting in the back of the room. The teacher and two guards decide that the best thing to do is to stand at the front of the room and bark out “SHUT UP!” every 20 seconds.
When you try to show then some practical examples of how Engineering helps us in society, you get asked questions like “Why I got to go to school?” and “Where you live? What you driving? Tell us where you live!” The funniest thing, I guess, is when you ask someone from the class to come up and draw what “power” means on a whiteboard. And someone comes sauntering up, draws a rough sketch of a coffin with a stick-figure laying in it, then another stick figure with a handgun firing down into the coffin, turns around and says “That POWER!” The class erupts in cheers, and from that point on you try to talk but someone turns on a big ass blaster (they allow those past the x-ray machine???), then turn to the teacher, who looks at you and shrugs.
This is one example; I did it for several years, until I finally found that everyone else had quit out of fear for their lives, and I was damned if I was going to go back by myself. Besides, I lost any idealism I had; as far as I was concerned, they could all burn in hell, and I’d be the Chief Engineer of Fires O’ Hell Unit 666, stoking the flames and cackling like a mushroom-tripping Greek Fury.
Oh yeah, I could feeeeeeeeeeeeel the rewarding joy of teaching. Now I only teach college students and paying clients.