The Cuter Side of Things
When I was 16, in my second to last year of school before university, I had a geography teacher who positively disliked me.
I had never been instantly disliked by a teacher before, or, I don’t believe, even disliked as I was a fairly good student, and I was too afraid of getting in trouble with them (and more importantly my mother) to cause problem.
I probably was a smart ass occasionally (This hasn't changed much, and I have yielded sarcasm as a weapon for a very long time which might have irritated some people) but I don’t think I gave any of my teachers cause to hate me.
Until her.
I wasn’t bad at geography either - I quite enjoyed the subject, but she kept on giving me bad grades.
She, however, adored my best friend, who couldn’t understand why her answers which said the same thing as mine but in a different prose were graded better.
My friend had an idea: “Let’s draw the same map, change the colours slightly, and see what happens.” she said (but in French). Of course, I was given less points for same map as my friend, which is what prompted me to actually complain about how unfair witchface was being.
Things got better (a little) from that point but she robbed me of half a year of decent grades.
The reason I remember this story is that I was talking to one of my friends about “cutters” the other day and they didn’t seem to understand what I meant.
Turns out "un cutter" is not "a cutter" in the UK, it is called a Stanley knife.
But “cutter” has since been tainted for me by that teacher (whose name I don’t even remember, I'll carry on calling her witchface) who used to pronounce the word as “cuter”. God knows why she was saying it like that because no one else in my life ever did.
There was a whole year of the whole class trying to correct her (and even asking my English teacher to "please do something, sir") and nothing changed.
At the end of the school year, knowing I wouldn’t have to put up with her any longer, I thought “Go open your box with your cuter, moron.”
I probably was a smart ass occasionally (This hasn't changed much, and I have yielded sarcasm as a weapon for a very long time which might have irritated some people) but I don’t think I gave any of my teachers cause to hate me.
Until her.
I wasn’t bad at geography either - I quite enjoyed the subject, but she kept on giving me bad grades.
She, however, adored my best friend, who couldn’t understand why her answers which said the same thing as mine but in a different prose were graded better.
My friend had an idea: “Let’s draw the same map, change the colours slightly, and see what happens.” she said (but in French). Of course, I was given less points for same map as my friend, which is what prompted me to actually complain about how unfair witchface was being.
Things got better (a little) from that point but she robbed me of half a year of decent grades.
The reason I remember this story is that I was talking to one of my friends about “cutters” the other day and they didn’t seem to understand what I meant.
Turns out "un cutter" is not "a cutter" in the UK, it is called a Stanley knife.
But “cutter” has since been tainted for me by that teacher (whose name I don’t even remember, I'll carry on calling her witchface) who used to pronounce the word as “cuter”. God knows why she was saying it like that because no one else in my life ever did.
There was a whole year of the whole class trying to correct her (and even asking my English teacher to "please do something, sir") and nothing changed.
At the end of the school year, knowing I wouldn’t have to put up with her any longer, I thought “Go open your box with your cuter, moron.”
 |
| The object of my torment... |
Comments
Post a Comment