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    A Waste Of Time Trying To Explain

    | Chicago, IL, USA | Books & Reading, Crazy Requests, Teachers

    (Thought I was a straight-A student in high school and never made trouble in class, there was one substitute who periodically covered our environmental science class who seemed to have it in for me. Every time she taught, without fail, something like this would happen.)

    Substitute: “[Teacher] left this exercise. I’ll pass it out. No talking until you’re done.”

    (The assignment is easy and all the answers are written practically verbatim in the assigned reading, so I do it quickly and get up to turn it in.)

    Substitute: “Where do you think you’re going, young lady?”

    Me: “Oh, I’m finished. I was just going to give this to you.”

    Substitute: “Uh-uh. You sit down and look over your work. You did that too fast. You HAVE to look over your work.”

    (I obey. Other people are finishing up. One of my classmates comes over to me. We asked each other for help in that class a lot and our regular teacher never had a problem with it as long as there was actual helping going on and no cheating or goofing off.)

    Classmate: “Hey, I’m having trouble with this question. Where did you find the answer for this part?”

    Me: “It was that one section on page—”

    Substitute: “What’s your problem? You can’t tell her the answers!”

    Me: “Oh god, sorry, no, I was—”

    Classmate: “She’s not, I just needed help—”

    Substitute: *to me* “You don’t know how to behave! Shut up and stop talking or I’ll write you up!”

    (My classmate goes back to her seat and I pull out my own book to read.)

    Substitute: “WHAT IS THAT?!”

    Me: “My… book?”

    Substitute: “You can’t read in class! That’s a waste of time! You’re never going to get anywhere in life! If you have to read, read your textbook.”

    Me: “I’ve… already read my—”

    Substitute: “READ IT AGAIN! You have to utilize all your time while you’re in school!”

    (To this day, I wonder what it was about my existence that offended her so much.)

    Kite-Running Off Your Mouth

    | Pittsburgh, PA, USA |

    (For a project based on the book The Kite Runner, two of my classmates have made paper kites decorated to represent the story. It should be noted that I go to a Catholic school.)

    Teacher: *after the presentation on the kites ends* “All right, show us how they fly!”

    Student #1: “Um, we didn’t make them to fly.”

    Teacher: “Come on, come on, let’s see it.”

    Student #2: “It’s not going to work.”

    Teacher: “You made kites; let’s fly them!”

    Student #1: “We could try it out the window, I guess.”

    (They try it. Sure enough, the heavy kites both drop like rocks and end up in the bushes outside the school. A month or so later, another class is doing projects on the same book. Someone brings in his project before my class begins.)

    Student #1: *as teacher enters* “Mrs. [Teacher], someone brought in his Kite Runner project.”

    Teacher: “Thank you. Hey, did I ever tell you about those kites that were duds? These students supposedly made kites, but…”

    (She continues the story. We are all squirming uncomfortably.)

    Student #2: “Uh, Mrs. [Teacher]… that was us.”

    Teacher: “Oh, my god! That was you! I, uh, I don’t usually talk about you guys… Let’s start class. Someone pray.”

    Student #2: *solemnly* “Dear Lord, please help us not to make fun of others’ kites. Amen.”

    (He got away with it. The teacher must have been really embarrassed to be caught gossiping!)

    Remainders Again!


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    Mr. Drumstick Is A Dipstick

    | Pittsburgh, PA, USA |

    (My band director made a recording of us playing our songs so we can hear how they sound. He started the recording early, so the first part of it consists of beginning-of-class chatter, and the director yelling at a student who is always twirling a drumstick.)

    Band Director’s Recorded Voice: “Put that down!” *pauses* “[Student]! Put that down! That is a distracting nuisance!”

    Student: *drops the drumstick, which he has been twirling again*

    Band Director: *in person* “Student, I should play this for your mother!”

    The Whole Family Is On Acid

    | Switzerland | Health & Body, Math & Science, Students

    (I’ve just started my very first chemistry class, and we’re doing an experiment. The teacher hands out small containers of different liquids.)

    Teacher: “Be careful, everyone. As you can see, some of these contain corrosive acids which could cause injury if you spill them on your skin. So make sure you handle them carefully.”

    (We set to work. I’ve never seen real acids before, so I’m fascinated.)

    Me: *to my friend* “I wonder what would happen if I stuck my finger in very fast…”

    Friend: “Don’t do that. You heard the teacher, it could hurt you.”

    (I shrug and before anyone can stop me, I dip the tip of my finger into the acid. It doesn’t hurt much, just a dull ache. Five minutes later, though…)

    Me: *excitedly* “Hey, look! The skin is coming off my finger!”

    Teacher: “What’s going on here?”

    Friend: “[My Name] stuck her finger in the acid… and now her skin is peeling off.”

    (The teacher rushes over, looks at my finger and sends me to the school nurse at once. Luckily for me, it turns out not to be serious, and after this I learn not to play with corrosive substances. Then, three years later, my younger sister ends up with the same chemistry teacher, and they do the same experiment.)

    Teacher: “Listen up, everyone. Three years ago, a girl stuck her finger in acid and I had to send her to the school nurse. You don’t want to be that girl, so do as I say and don’t touch the acids.”

    (My sister chuckles, knowing that was me, then gets on with the experiment. Like me at her age, she has never seen real acids before, and since curiosity runs in the family…)

    Sister: “I know we’re not supposed to touch it, but have you ever wondered what acid smells like?”

    Sister’s Friend: “Yeah, but… Wait, no! Don’t do that!”

    (Before she can be stopped, my sister picks up the container and takes a big whiff.)

    Sister: “Hmm, it tickles. Does anyone have a tissue?”

    (She blows her nose, then freezes, staring at the tissue. Just then, the teacher happens to walk past her desk.)

    Teacher: “What’s up?”

    Sister: “Um… I smelled the acid and, um… Now my snot is black.”

    (Once again, the teacher freaks out and sends her to the school nurse. As she leaves the classroom, he asks:)

    Teacher: “What did you say your name was?”

    Sister: “It’s [Name], why?”

    Teacher: *shaking his head* “I should’ve guessed… you’re [My Name]’s sister.”

    (I wonder if he still tells his students about the two sisters who, three years apart, disregarded his warnings and ended up with the school nurse.)


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