“All right, Antoro, you’re of Italian descent. So’s Taglio. You call Talgio a wop and he calls you a wop, and everything’s okay. But suppose Levy calls you both wops? Is it okay then?”
Rick paused and waited.
“No, it’s not okay, and you’ll snap right back and call Levy a kike or a mockie. But you were the ones who gave Levy the idea in the first place, don’t you see? Because you used the expression yourselves, just kidding around.”
“Aw, I didn’t mean nothin’,” Taglio said, a little embarrassed.
“I know you didn’t. That’s just my point. You shouldn’t use vicious expressions, whether you’re serious or not. Look, my parents are French. Do you know how many times I’ve been called a frog? Do you think I like it? Well, no, I don’t. Do you think Morales or De la Cruz or Rodriguez here like being called spics? Well, I can tell you they don’t.”
He looked out at the class, saw the three Puerto Rican boys smile in embarrassment.
“Do you think Kruger or Vandermer like being called krauts? Do you think O’Brien or Irin like being called micks or donkeys?” Rick paused and then focused his gaze on Miller. “Do you think Miller or Parsons or Baker like being called niggers?”
The class stirred a little, and Rick knew damned well they’d all used every one of those expressions at one time or another.
“No one likes fun poked at his colour, creed or nationality,” Rick went on. “and I won’t tolerate it in my class. So don’t tell me you’re kidding or not kidding or whatever. I’m not interested. Just don’t use derogatory expressions in my classroom. Is that clear?”
    Now maybe it’s different in America, but how far do you reckon a teacher would have got with that speech at Moorabbin Tech. The oddity is the meekness with which the kids react. At Moorabbin Tech, such a speech would have not only officially okayed racist tagging, but at the use of each expression, the bodgies would have chorused each slur with thunderous delight.  
    And yet, the bodgies at Moorabbin Tech—no less destined for a life of crime than the characters in this book—thought The Blackboard Jungle an inspiration, although they were referring to the film (in which the same dialogue occurs) because most of them didn’t read books. I did both and wasn’t nearly as shocked and horrified as I was supposed to be—it all seemed perfectly normal to me. I knew blokes just like those played by Sidney Poitier and Vic Morrow. Evan Hunter wrote the book from his personal experiences in a New York vocational school. It was an immediate best seller and the movie was made the same year(1955).
    As it happened, this movie was immortalised for a quite different reason. They used a bouncy song by Bill Haley and the Comets called Rock Around the Clock over the opening credits and made it so popular that the following year, Haley got to make his own film by the same title, and that was the true beginning of Rock’n’Roll. Rosely dragged me by the hand, all the way on the bus to a distant cinema to see it, and I both hated and never forgot it. It included The Platters, and possessed the great and prophetic line—What’s a square dance? A dance for squares. History in the making before my very eyes.