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When I was a student teacher at an elementary school in Livonia, Michigan, I saw some things that shocked me. Once I watched a male teacher grabbing a disruptive fourth-grader by the neck and forcing his head toward the floor, while pouring out a stream of sarcastic abuse upon him.

The scariest thing, though, was that after a few practice lessons I started to understand how that teacher felt — assuming he shared my gut-clenching terror of losing control of the class. (Probably not a valid assumption; he rather enjoyed bullying the kids.)

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