The Apple and the Snake: Sixth Grade and the Predator in the Classroom

By someone who lived it—and only saw the truth after the door closed behind her. Part 1 of 3.

Written by: Bethann Chambers

In the fall of 1977, I started sixth grade at Black Mountain Middle School in San Diego County. I was eleven years old, and my family had recently moved to Rancho Bernardo six months earlier after nearly two years of living in Bogor, Indonesia while my step-father worked on a World Bank funded project building a modern highway. We had lived overseas long enough for everything in California to feel strange and overly structured by comparison. But nothing could have prepared me for the man who would end up shaping my sixth-grade year: Rodney F. Stark.

He was my homeroom teacher. At first, I thought he seemed nice, energetic, and maybe even fun. He smiled a lot. He joked with students. He had a pet ball python in his classroom. I wanted to do well in his class, like any kid does. But it didn’t take long for me—and many others—to feel that something wasn’t right. Stark had a split personality. One moment he’d be cheerful and theatrical, then suddenly he would turn cold and authoritarian, barking out punishments and sending kids to the Dean’s office for the smallest infractions.

He ran his class like a game show of public humiliation. If you were bright and male, you might make his handpicked honor roll list—displayed on a poster board in the classroom for everyone to see. It was mostly boys, only a few girls ever made the list. I remember that a boy named Vince was a straight “A” student right from the beginning of the fall semester. But if you were not performing to his expectations—or worse, if you dared to ask for help—he would humiliate you. I remember him saying things like, "You want me to do your work for you?" when I was just trying to understand the assignment. The boys he praised were his favorites, his inner circle. I didn’t have the word for it then, but now I understand what I was witnessing: grooming behavior wrapped in academic favoritism.

I began to struggle in school for the first time in my life. My grades plummeted to C’s and D’s. I didn’t know what was happening. I just felt like I was drowning, and no one was throwing me a rope. Stark demanded perfection but gave no guidance. Honestly, looking back, I don’t think that Mr. Stark was grading student’s assignments fairly. I think he gave certain students better grades because he had an ulterior motive for wanting to show favoritism towards certain boys. Another problem was that he punished minor misbehavior and withheld praise like a cruel god deciding who was worthy. And the worst part was—he had the full support of the administration. I once got detention for quietly talking about an assignment with my friend. That’s how warped the environment was.

Then came the green apple.

It was springtime and all the student’s in my class were happy and having fun. The air was soft and bright, one of those perfect San Diego days that makes everything feel lighter. After lunch, I came back to class, sat down at my desk, and placed a perfectly good green apple on top. I hadn’t eaten it during lunch and intended to save it. Stark noticed it and flew into a rage. "Throw it away!" he yelled. I was stunned. I took the apple and placed it inside my desk. Stark yelled at me again, “I told you to throw it away!” I looked at him and said, "No! I’m not throwing away a perfectly good apple. That’s wasteful."

It was such a small moment—but something in him snapped.

He yelled louder. I held my ground. Other students chimed in, agreeing with me. But he wasn’t interested in reason. He sent me to the principal’s office. I stayed there for the rest of the day. One of my friends brought my belongings from the classroom.

That night, my mom came home and told me, without much emotion, that I would not be returning to Stark’s class. I had been reassigned. She wasn’t angry at me. She didn’t say much at all. At the time, I thought I had done something wrong. But now I know that moment was the best thing that could have happened to me.

My new teacher was calm, older, and had children of her own. Her classroom felt like a sanctuary. Peaceful. Safe. There was no yelling. No public shaming. No arbitrary rules. For the first time in months, I felt like a normal kid again.

It wasn’t until years later that the truth hit me.

Around 1990, I heard a news broadcast on the radio. Mr. Stark had been arrested and charged with sexual crimes against a boy under the age of 14. I froze. My heart raced. But somewhere deep inside me, I wasn’t surprised. It all made sense—the favoritism, the controlling behavior, the way he surrounded himself with certain boys. His perversions had been the hidden current running beneath everything.

When I told my mom about it, her response was simple: "Well, I never liked that man."

I snapped back, "Mom, you let me stay in his class for more than half the school year. You should have gotten me out sooner."

She answered honestly, "I didn’t know he was that bad."

And that’s the other tragedy. Predators like Stark don’t just fool children. They fool adults. They smile. They perform. They charm. And when their mask finally slips, people are left questioning everything—how could this have happened, and for so long?

So let’s go back in time, and analyze this situation from an adult perspective. Mr. Stark got mad, and yelled at me because I set an apple on my desk. Wow! Rodney Stark was nearly 30 years old when he did that in 1978. Any adult who thinks it’s appropriate to yell at an eleven year old girl about an apple should not be allowed in a classroom, because they lack the maturity and self-control to conduct themselves properly around children. Mr. Stark should have been the one who got thrown out of the classroom, not me, but the school administration protected him. I was a kid, but I am so glad that I stood up to him. Unfortunately, other younger boys got sucked into his vortex and trusted him, before he abused them sexually.

If someone had called out Stark’s behavior in the 1970s, maybe the boys in the 1980s would not have been sexually assaulted. Maybe if administrators listened to students, if parents trusted their instincts, if the system had integrity, then predators wouldn’t flourish under the banner of "beloved teacher."

But none of that happened in time.

And that’s why I’m telling this story now.

Below is the mugshot of Rodney Fred Stark, born in 1948. This is what he did: Rodney Fred Stark was booked in San Diego County, CA for ORAL COPULATION WITH A MINOR UNDER 16 YEARS OF AGE AND OFFENDER IS 21 OR MORE YEARS OF AGE, LEWD OR LASCIVIOUS ACTS WITH A CHILD UNDER 14 YEARS OF AGE, PRIOR CODE - LEWD OR LASCIVIOUS ACTS WITH A CHILD 14 OR 15 YEARS OF AGE, ORAL COPULATION WITH A MINOR UNDER 14 YEARS OF AGE OR BY FORCE OR FEAR.

You can view the official court summary of his conviction HERE.

No child should have to go through what his victims suffered.

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