If you teach classic literature, you’re bound to run into words so outdated that kids have absolutely no idea what they mean. For example, in Of Mice and Men, “two bits” is a quarter. In Inherit the Wind, the play we’re currently reading, “galluses” are suspenders. I spend what feels like a fair amount of time translating these arcane words so the  kids can make passing sense of what they’re reading. Occasionally, over time some of these words have developed double meanings, like gay and boob, both words we have encountered in our books. These double entendres inevitably spark waves of laughter that can take the better part of a class period to quell.

In today’s reading, we came across a reference to an organ grinder.

“What’s an organ grinder?” asked one of the saucier seventh graders, and everyone started to giggle. It wasn’t until that moment that I heard the possible double meaning. I put on my English teacher game face and launched into an earnest explanation, but I was not able to stem the tide of middle school smutty hilarity. I gave up. Why would I trip over words like organ and grinder on my way to describing something with absolutely no modern application? Organ grinders had gone the way of the sideshow and the nickelodeon, and no, not that Nickelodeon. I think it’s safe to say that unlike the fedora, the organ grinder has passed beyond any possible resurgence into coolness.

This is what you do when someone born in 1999 asks you what an organ grinder is in front of a class of his giggling peers. You look at him and say “Google it when you get home.” Then, if you’re anything like me, it won’t hit you until later that in terms of inappropriate double meanings, internet searches are infinitely worse than seventh graders.