Forgive me for how long this is, but here we go:
I had a PE teacher freshman year of high school who was an older man, married with kids, small and sniveling type--thing Peter Pettigrew from Harry Potter, only Latino. He primarily worked in the classroom setting where we had a "health" course (which was a crock of bull to begin with), and managed me and a classroom full of other 14/15-year-old girls every Tuesday and Thursday. In my school the PE classes were separated into male/female groups, and I think he used this to his advantage.
This man was a known lecher when it came to sizing up younger girls, but nobody had ever reported anything because it wasn't anything more than him leering and making us uncomfortable, per se. He'd call girls up to his desk and ask them to perch there in front of him while he chatted them up--most notably, the most-developed girls with longer legs and larger chests. He'd walk down the aisles between desks while we were doing busy work and stand right at your shoulder, looking directly down at your chest, to the point where most of us would bring jackets and wear them at the height of summer. We all knew he was a creep, but nobody ever said anything...which isn't really surprising, given how girls in that age group often won't stick up for themselves in such a situation, OR use it to their advantage if they know they can boost their grades, etc. Grossness all around, it still gives me the fucking creeps.
Before I get into my particular story, some of his Greatest Hits in the classroom included announcing to the class (as he CORRECTED a student) that the "thing hanging in the back of your throat" isn't called a uvula, but a VULVA, as in the female genitalia. That kind of shit in a so-called health class.
Now, he took a special interest in me my freshman year after I was diagnosed with a form of cancer and went through treatment. At first it seemed like he was being polite and concerned, but then I noticed he kept lingering around me more often, calling me up to his desk, asking me to show him my surgery scar (where it was on my throat). Nothing in particular happened that year that was cause enough to report him, but throughout my sophomore year I would have to pass his classroom to get to another class and he would often stop me to chat, and one time called me into his empty classroom, which I quickly fled when I realized where he was taking me. You know that gut instinct where your adrenaline starts pumping and your vision gets hyper-focused? Being around this man made me feel like I was prey, and I couldn't put an exact finger on why, but it bothered me greatly...enough to the point where I'd start taking alternate routes to class to try and avoid him.
Fast-forward to junior year: I haven't been in this teacher's class in two years, and yet he still makes a point of finding me even though I clearly have no interest in speaking to him beyond begrudging pleasantries. I worked for the school newspaper for three years and one afternoon was walking down the hall between classes to run an errand for my instructor. The hallway is dead silent, empty, and I'm right in the middle of an empty row of lockers when who the hell do you think walks in? This guy. And he makes a beeline for me.
He stopped me in the middle of this deserted hallway and got very close to my face, taking one step forward every time I took one back. He was acting very "concerned" for my wellness and the more he spoke the less I was hearing, because by that point my heart was beating loud enough to drum in my ears. The next thing I know he's reaching out to brush my hair away from my neck, and very gently grazes his fingers over my throat where we stand--something like a lover would do. Now; I don't know what he intended in full, if anything at all, but I didn't stick around to find out, folks. My ass BOLTED down the hallway and back to class, white as a sheet, mind reeling. I realized in that moment that after three years of letting him get closer and closer, that I had finally had enough--and wasn't willing to see what came next.
My parents wound up going to the school and speaking with administration, who called him in for a conference--so I hear, he cried through most of it, and got off with nothing more than a reprimand and the strict instruction to never speak to me on school grounds again (despite having been reprimanded for harassing another female TEACHER before). The nasty-ass fucker. But I'll tell you what, karma is a bitch, because he became so alienated by teachers and students alike that he resigned the very next year when I was a senior. I never made a point of spreading things around, but people knew, and after I went forward to try and put a stop to his behavior I think others found themselves doing the same. Good riddance, and I never saw him again until several years after graduation when I passed him in a Latin grocery parking lot. This was six or seven years after I first met him, and my blood still ran cold. Some people are just evil, man.
In summary: I realize now this is only a minor sort of transgression compared to what other young girls and boys have withstood from teachers, but I want to urge young people to always, ALWAYS reach out for help when somebody is harassing them or acting inappropriately. Go to administration or a trusted teacher if you can't trust your parents to help, and raise hell if necessary. It sickens me that these people are around young people and get paid to be lecherous while they prey on students. And when something feels bad or wrong, always trust your gut.