Justice Is An Art Form

(The basic art class in my high school, the one that is a prerequisite for every other art class offered, fills up quickly, partly because everyone uses it as a blow-off class; I am the only one in my class who is in there to actually learn. Most people put in the minimum amount of effort, while I put everything I have into my work. As such, my table-mates like to try to antagonize me, and I can’t move because we have assigned “seats.” The teacher does nothing because they aren’t physically hurting me, so I have no choice but to tolerate the harassment. One day, when we have a substitute teacher, they push me over the edge.)

Table-Mate #1: *in a poor imitation of me* “Ooooh, look at me! I’m such a great artist!” *waves his paintbrush around, flinging paint everywhere, including on me*

Me: “Cut it out. You’re getting paint everywhere and if you get it on my canvas, I’m gonna hit you.”

Table-Mate #2: “Awww, are you afraid it’ll ruin your widdle picture?”

(I don’t glorify that with a response and continue working, trying to ignore their increasingly rude taunts, even when they start cussing at me. The noise level in the room is loud enough that the teacher hasn’t realized what is going on, especially as we are in the back corner of the room.)

Table Mate #1: “Stop ignoring me, b****!” *reaches over and drags his brush across my entire canvas*

(Having had enough of their treatment, I make sure the sub isn’t looking and kick his stool as hard as I can right into his leg. He stumbles back, knocks his easel into his buddy’s, and those both take down the stool they’d stupidly left their paints on — We have tables for a reason: so paints won’t get knocked down or sat on]. The substitute comes over to see what is going, and both of my table-mates proceed to tell her what I’ve done.)

Sub: “[My Name], is that true?”

Me: “No. They’ve been back here goofing off all hour and being nuisances. He tripped over the stool.”

Sub: “I thought so. You’ve never caused any trouble before. Boys, get this cleaned up and get back to work. [My Name], why don’t you come up here and work at another table? I’ll leave a note for the regular teacher to leave you up there so you can work in peace from now on.”