I don’t think I’m a notorious creep myself; no, I see myself as a non-traditional French teacher, appreciated by his students, relatively interesting, enough so at any rate that nobody sneers when I walk into a classroom, moderately demanding where assignments are concerned—the trick is to know how to ask without being peremptory or pleading—amusing enough so they don’t laugh at me when I make a joke and, most important of all, with enough ­psychological smarts never, never to have a sexual involvement, not even a flirtation, with a student. They all know I’m homosexual, usually don’t give a damn, sometimes make a try if they are, too—they’re just learning about seduction so they’ll try it out on the nice, friendly teacher, it’s perfectly normal—rarely making a joke of it, though that sometimes happens and it hurts. In any case, relations between us haven’t been the same for the past few years: the heroic era when students and teachers got together ­regularly to have a beer and remake the world in general and the educational system in particular, is ancient history now. The new race of CEGEP students doesn’t give a sweet damn about us and I think we feel pretty much the same way about them.