It’s not only Mondays that the boys in Mr. Johnson’s ninth-grade Modern World History class want to talk football. Life in the NFL’s trenches is a topic of endless curiosity.
Could Mr. Johnson have blocked Ray Lewis, they love to ask.
Tre Johnson, former Redskins lineman, teaches Landon freshmen
John McDonnell/THE WASHINGTON POST - Former Washington Redskin offensive lineman Tre Johnson leads a discussion during the diversity class he teaches to freshmen at Landon.
Tre Johnson takes a three-mile walk around the track at Landon during his lunch hour, part of his efforts to lose weight.
More NFL coverage
13 years on, a killing’s heavy baggage
Ravens star Ray Lewis has moved on from the January 2000 stabbings — after settling a pair of civil suits — but one victim’s family has not.
Ravens well aware of options
Experience of facing Robert Griffin III may help Ravens as they prepare to face San Francisco’s attack.
What about Hannibal, who taught the ancient Romans the meaning of fear?
Genghis Khan?
“One time I asked if he could take on the whole Trojan army!” 15-year-old Michael Soraci says.
The answer is always the same.
“There’s nobody on the planet I couldn’t block!” Mr. Johnson brays. “All-pro or not, I’m gonna put him on his pockets!”
But five minutes of football chatter is all Tre Johnson indulges before getting down to business. The lesson on a recent school morning: an introduction to Islam and the Crusades.
Johnson sports a far less menacing look — khakis, shirt, tie and sweater — than he brandished as a Washington Redskins guard from 1994 to 2000 and again in 2002, reaching the Pro Bowl in 1999.
Back when his first step was more explosive, roughly 13 years and 60 pounds ago, his job was protecting quarterback Brad Johnson and blasting running lanes for Stephen Davis. Today, at 41, it’s expanding the minds of 14- and 15-year-old freshmen at Landon School, prodding their thinking on matters of world history and cultural diversity in classrooms he strives to make intellectually challenging and emotionally safe.
“Since Day One, Mr. Johnson has been encouraging us to express our opinion,” says Josh Hunter, 15, a student in two of his classes. “I feel I can say what I think, and I really love that about him. I don’t feel judged. There’s a certain trust in his classes that makes you want to speak. Some teachers don’t rub off on you the same way.”
‘Never let football define me’
Set on a 75-acre oasis in the heart of Bethesda, Landon is a privileged cocoon where upper-school tuition is $32,000, class size averages 16, a code of conduct stresses respect and honesty and all 680 boys must play a sport. But football isn’t why Johnson, who holds bachelor’s and master’s degrees from Temple, was hired to teach history nine years ago.
A father of five, he’s more engrossed in his 11-year-old daughter’s lacrosse games and 6-year-old son’s wrestling, martial arts and lacrosse practices than NFL games, which he watches only sparingly.
“If you can’t play anymore, it’s almost like torture,” Johnson says. “You think, ‘I used to be able to do that.’ You know when your era is over, and you can’t compare yourself. But I would love to block for RGIII! Let me block for Cam [Newton]. Let me block for LeSean McCoy. I would love to have had that opportunity because I respect them as athletes and people and ballplayers.”
Johnson, who retired in 2003 after eight seasons with the Redskins and one with the Cleveland Browns, misses the all-out brawls of game day. He misses the camaraderie with linemates Jon Jansen, Cory Raymer, Keith Sims and Andy Heck. And he misses the fat NFL paychecks.
But he’s not living in the past. He never had much use for fame and doesn’t make his NFL pedigree his calling card today.
- Spam
- Obscene
- Duplicate
Loading...
Comments