Unfiltered Story #46158

OH, USA | Unfiltered

(It’s my junior year of high school; more than 3/4 of my class now drives to and from school. We happen to live in a place nicknamed the “snow belt,” and the first major snowfall has just hit us hard enough to give us our first snow day of the season. I overhear a classmate explaining how he takes care of his car:)

Student: “…and if your wipers are froze to your windshield, just run a little hot water on ’em.”

(I shake my head in disbelief, as a few minutes ago he said he keeps his car outside.)

Me: “[Student]?”

Student: “Yeah.”

Me: “Are you sure about that?”

Student: “Absolutely! Just a little hot water!”

(He hasn’t cracked his windshield—yet.)

Unfiltered Story #46161

Belgium | Unfiltered

During my first year in college I had a Dutch teacher. One class we had to summarize an article in 100 words. By the end of class we had all read our own summary out loud and he found a way to criticize them all. It’s important to know that the article was about the fact that immigrants have to learn our language within the first 2 years.

Me: Teacher, could you perhaps read us your own solution so we have a better idea of what you’re looking for?

Teacher: Yes, “my name”… Foreigners have to learn the language within two years, this was said by …

(I let him finish his speech)
Me: But mr. “teacher” why did you use the word foreigners? We’re talking about immigrants, not foreigners? They aren’t the same thing and foreigners are in no way obligated to learn our language.

We spent more than 10 minutes discussing this where he could give me no clear answer but was obviously refusing to say I was correct and he used the wrong word. After that he just ignored me and went on with class.

The most frustrating thing about the whole situation was that the other students kept quiet during our discussion and refused to back me up but they all told me afterwards how I was right and he should have just admitted so.

Unfiltered Story #46152

OH, USA | Unfiltered

I’m in second grade when for the last year there was this bully (hated by both students and teachers), he was taller and heavier then me and used to pick on me by calling me fat and making fun of things that me and my friends liked at recess. I tried multiple times to deal with him, exhausting all options (“Ignore him”, “Tell a teacher” etc.) with no success due to his relative was the principal so he always got off scot-free. So one day, I don’t know what came over me, but after he had bullied me I stood up and tackled him. (I was told that by my friend after a teacher broke us up. I got so mad that I blacked out. The best part is that a teacher told my mom that they took their time getting to and breaking up the fight.)

Unfiltered Story #46151

NJ, USA | Unfiltered

(I’m in the advanced Language Arts/English class. I’m also very shy and get nervous when I speak in front of people. I pride myself on my spelling abilities. Come the class spelling bee…)

Teacher: “Your word is ‘chocolate.'”

Me: “Chocolate. C-H–” *I suddenly freeze and stutter* “Uh, C-O… uh…”

Teacher: “Um, no.”

(I go sit down, embarrassed and disappointed. I still remember it vividly 2.5 years out of college. I got further in grade 8, though! I got tripped up on “equestrian” then and was only disappointed.)

Unfiltered Story #46153

Melbourne, VIC, AUS | Unfiltered

In years 2 and 3 there was this one girl who bullied me *non-stop* until year 3 (you’ll see why). I was her target because I’m up to a year younger than most of my peers.

*Main Year 2 story:*
Once during recess, I was drawing in my sketchbook by myself, and she had one of her friends take my pencils from me. She threw them on the ground and stomped on them, which f*cking obliterated the leads. It was a $20 pack of coloured pencils, and to a 7-year-old, that’s a lot of money. I only had the pencil I was holding, my favourite colour, which had just been sharpened, so when she tried to take it from me I f*cking reacted. Annoyingly, I like to sit in quiet places, so if I’d just yelled out, the teacher on duty wouldn’t have heard me. So, I did what I could do… I stabbed her with my pencil, and the lead broke off in her skin. Of course she twisted the story (I don’t remember how…) to make me seem like *I* had just stabbed her out of nowhere, so I got a week’s worth of lunchtime detentions.

*Main Year 3 Story:*
After school my school has a program for years Prep (the Australian equivalent of Kindergarten) to year 6, where the kids can go after school to be supervised by workers from an external company, and sometimes some year 12s who want some extra cash, so that the kids’ parents know that their children are safe while they wait to be picked up. During this program, the bully girl was there, and so was I. It was over a year since the ‘pencil incident’, and we were in the playground. The playground had one of those bars that rolls along a track (we call them Flying-Foxes), and I had just pushed off she started *sprinting* towards me. Once she got to me, she tried to grab my legs, I kicked out to stop her and accidentally pushed her over. She landed in an awkward way, and broke her collar-bone. Again, I got the blame.

We have never been in the same class together since year 3. Year 2 and year 3 we were in the same class, and now we’ve never been in them together… I wonder why?

I figured I’d share my stories of how my bully became the ‘victim’ in the eyes of the school. I’ve got more stories about a ‘friend’ of mine since preschool, who turned out to be a bully after 11 years of ‘friendship’. But that would make this even longer… So I won’t unless anyone wants to hear it, it’s *really* long, that’s what tends to happen with 11 years of sh*t.