Deputy Heading For Trouble

| UK | Learning | March 21, 2017

(I am currently in sixth form and heading to a teacher’s classroom to pick up a project I’m working on. As I enter the building I cross paths with a teacher who taught me for five years straight, but recently was promoted to deputy headmistress. This teacher also interviewed me for my admittance into sixth form. During my time under her we didn’t really get on. She didn’t like anyone else having opinions other than hers and kicked me out frequently for either disagreeing or asking for clarity, so I already have little respect for her. In my school, sixth formers are the only students allowed to be out of uniform.)

Headmistress: “Where are you going?”

Me: “To Miss [Teacher]’s room.”

Headmistress: “Don’t you think you should be in class?”

Me: “No. I don’t have a lesson until this afternoon.”

Headmistress: “Do you realise you have just admitting to truancy to a deputy head?”

Me: “Sixth formers have study periods.”

Headmistress: “You’re a sixth former?”

Me: “You let me in…”

Headmistress: *squinting her eyes* “Where’s your timetable?”

(I take it out.)

Headmistress: “Where is your PRINTED timetable? The one you got at the beginning of the year.”

Me: “Sixth former. We don’t get them printed.”

Headmistress: “You’re far too young to be in sixth form. You barely look GCSE age.”

Me: “So I’m a fourteen year old with facial hair and out of uniform, and I have a timetable for lessons that you can’t even get a GCSE in?”

Headmistress: “Attitude!”

(She drags me by the arm to every group tutor in the GCSE years (10/11), and all verify that I am not in their group, their year, and am indeed a sixth former. She refuses to accept this and tries to take me to the reception. I sprain my ankle when she opens a door but lets it swing back at me making me lose my balance. I’m past done by this point. I rip myself out of her grip and head to my sixth form centre.)

Headmistress: “GET BACK HERE!”

Me: “Complain all you want, but I am DONE with you.”

Headmistress: *chasing after me as I limp* “I’ll have you excluded for this!”

Me: “GO AHEAD!”

(We make it to the sixth form centre but she bars me entry, along with everyone else trying to enter or leave. Our head comes out of her office.)

Head: “[Headmistress], what on earth are you doing?”

Headmistress: “Having this BOY expelled.”

Head: “Expelled? What for?”

Headmistress: “Truancy, attitude, assault.”

Me: “Assault! If anyone has been assaulted it’s me. My ankle’s already swelling.”

(The headmistress starts this crazed rant which includes me assaulting her because she broke a nail when I broke free, screaming and swearing at her, and lastly, skipping my English lesson.)

Head: “But, [My Name] doesn’t do English at A-Level.”

Me: “I don’t.”

(We end up going down to reception to have them verify my age. The headmistress acknowledged that I was in fact a SIXTH FORMER. I have my driving license on me, which helps, which I also wish I had shown earlier. The headmistress then waltzes away as if nothing is wrong, while I sit with an ice pack on my foot. My head speaks to me.)

Head: *shaking her head* “How ever did she last this long…”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Head: “Hazard a guess as to why she was promoted.”

(I shake my head.)

Head: “Because so many students complained about her that the only position she could fill was one where interaction with students was at a minimum, and that so happened to be the deputy head.”

(It was good to know I wasn’t the only one who hated her. She’s still there.)

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