(I am in a freshman biology class and the teacher has accidentally left a YouTube video playing on the projector too long. The next one starts automatically, except it’s an ad for The Thinning, a movie about teens being required to take an intelligence test that determines whether they’ll live.)
Teacher: “That wouldn’t be too bad in real life. A lot of people in this class would be dead, like [Student #1] and [Student #2].”
Me: “You really think if people don’t pass a test they should be killed?”
Teacher: “Well, they wouldn’t have to die. They could go away to a remote island.”
Me: “You know, if that was true, the government would probably just use that as a cover and kill them anyway, since it would be a dystopian society.”
Teacher: “Well, if they fall out of the plane or something, nothing you can do about it, right?”
Friend: “But what about people who have mental disorders like me? I have dyslexia so I might not pass the test without extra help. I have an IEP, you know.”
Teacher: “I guess that’s a sacrifice we’d make. Also, I have children, and I’d still want the test.” *his children are around ages 5 and 7*
(The discussion pretty much ended there. I’m worried for his sense of morality.)
(We are in a Spanish class.)
Teacher: *jokingly* “Anyone planning to cheat on the test today?”
(Several students raise their hands in response. Unfortunately for one student, this also causes his sleeve to fall down, revealing notes written on his arm.)
Teacher: *face palms*
(The teacher made the student go back twice to wash the ink off but let him take the exam after, since he was “honest” about it!)
(During my first years of high school, I am in a very large class where several students have the same first name. For instance, there were two Lauras, two Lisas, several other name-pairs, and three boys that shared the same first name. Understandably, teachers get confused a lot, and the following situation occurred more than once when a teacher hands back graded work:)
Teacher: “[Girl’s Name].”
Class: *as one* “Which one?”
Teacher: “[Last Name #1]. [Boy’s Name].”
Class: “Which one?”
Teacher: “[Last Name #2].” *a few other names without problems* “[Same Boy’s Name].”
Class: “Which one?”
Teacher: “Well, the other one.”
Class: “Which one? There’s three of ’em.”
Teacher: “Oh, for Pete’s sake, [Last Name #3]!”
(There is a new student who just moved here from another country and has a very obvious accent as a result. Wanting to make him feel as welcome as possible, I start talking to him and learn that he’s a very decent guy and decide to get to know him a little more.)
Me: “What part of Africa are you from?”
Student: “[My Name], what’s wrong with you? Just because someone is black doesn’t mean that they’re from Africa!”
New Student: “…but I am actually from Africa. I was born in Nigeria.”
(Someone later insisted that he was African-American whenever anyone said he was African, despite his insistence that he really was from Africa.)
(I work for a karate school picking up the kids, doing general cleaning, and then watching them after class till their parents come. Most of the kids have behavior issues. They are between six and nine. The dojo has taught them that the highest belt is the leader. Also note: I’m a 115 lb white woman who looks way younger than I am. First day:)
Usually Troubled Boy: “We don’t have to listen to you! What belt are you?”
Me: “I don’t have a belt. I was taught by a MOSSAD buddy!” *not a total lie… I married one and have learned, like, three moves* “I killed a man with THIS THUMB!” *total lie*
(After waiting for parents to show up I was tackled by all eight kids but took a stance to stay upright and just let them whack at me to the point of them biting my ankles while I give a look of “I’m sorry, are you doing something?”)
Frustrated Little Girl: “How are you not falling down!?”
Me: “Skills, darling.”
Usually Troubled Boy: *when his mom came* “MOM! THIS IS MISS [My Name]! SHE’S AN ASSASSIN!”
(Mom gave me a look and I just shot the “I dunno” look back. They never gave me problems again and if I even twitched an eyebrow they were silent. The troubled boy even became the sweetest one next to me. I miss those kids.)
