Inattentive Lifeguards Breathe A Sign Of Relief, As One Drowning Per Pool Session Is Now Acceptable

, , , , , , | Learning | November 14, 2018

When I was ten years old, the summer program I attended went on a field trip to a local indoor waterpark. I tried using a feature where one walked across on lily-pad-like flotation devices while also using a net above, but ended up slipping off and getting trapped underneath one of them.

The worst part was that the lifeguard — nor anyone else, for that matter — seemed not to notice, and the other kids continued to walk on the lily pads, despite my predicament. After what felt like forever, I freed myself, but due to embarrassment, I said nothing about it and went to do something else.

Ten minutes later, the summer program staff announced we were going back to the site early — we’d been there for only an hour — due to inattentive lifeguards, which made me wonder what else had happened, since none of them asked if I was okay.

Math Class Gets Personal, As Teacher Demands Students To Find His X

, , , , , | Learning | November 13, 2018

Math Problem: “Solve for X.”

Me: “[Teacher], I don’t know how to do this.”

Teacher: “You need to solve for X.”

Me: “I know, but I don’t know how to do it.”

Teacher: “Solve for X.”

Me: “I know that; I don’t know how.”

Teacher: “Oh! Okay, I see what the problem is now. Here, look. X stands for a number, and you need to figure out what that number is.”

Me: *pause* “Thanks.”

Stan Lee… RIP

| Friendly Healthy Hopeless Learning Legal Related Right Romantic Working | November 12, 2018

Many of us here at Not Always Right grew up with the marvelous comic creations of Stan Lee, and we were all sad to hear of his passing. In tribute to his amazing legacy, we have rounded up some stories from the archives that show we are not alone in being touched by prolific and creative energy.


Photo credit: Fort Greene Focus on VisualHunt / CC BY-ND

 

The Jean-Grey To My Scott Summers – True love can blossom in comic conundrums.

The Jean-Grey To My Scott Summers, Part 2 – True love can also blossom in comic confrontations!

Generation X – Stan’s creativity has allowed many children to think outside the box.

Granola Bars, High In Iron, Gamma Rays, And Vibranium –  For well-behaved children, the reward is Marvel!

The Stark Truth Shall Set You Free – Marvel’s output gets biblical in its complexity.

Got The Avengers Nailed – Who said comics are just for boys?

Your Friendly Neighborhood Customer Service – The secret identity to a child’s happiness.

The Infinity Aisle – With great power comes a great work ethic!

Made Contact With The X-Men – A child’s wonder is one of the best things that come from comics.

The Black Widow To My Hawkeye – DC? Eww!

A Thort-ful Child, Part 2 – Stan Lee, we were Loki to have you.

 

Want more? Then why not revisit our Superhero Roundup?

Social Studies Prove That Analogies Abhor A Vacuum

, , , , , , | Learning | November 12, 2018

(This takes place in high school social studies class. The teacher is explaining a concept of economics. I’m known to be a pretty smart kid and a whiz at science, but I don’t usually participate.)

Teacher: “Think of it this way. Does anybody know how a vacuum cleaner works?”

(A few students raise their hands, including me.)

Teacher: “[Student #1]?”

Student #1: “It sucks stuff in with a big fan.”

Teacher: “No, that’s incorrect. [Student #2]?”

Student #2: “There’s a pump and it pulls air in.”

Teacher: “Nope, not right, either.”

(The teacher then looks at me and gives me a look that tells me he is not looking forward to my response.)

Teacher: “[My Name]?”

Me: “Things always move from an area of higher concentration to lower concentration, so a vacuum cleaner pumps air out of a chamber inside it, creating an area of lower air pressure inside. The higher air pressure outside of the vacuum pushes things into it, and they end up in the bag, which is porous to allow air to pass through.”

Teacher: *pause* “No, that’s not right, either. The point is, nobody knows how a vacuum works.”

(He carried on with the lesson, and I frowned and sat back in my chair, knowing I had a better explanation than anyone else, and deciding that he wasn’t expecting someone to actually know how a vacuum cleaner works, ruining the analogy.)

Loopholes In The Law Open Up Anyone To Be Accused Of Stalking

, , , , | Learning | November 11, 2018

(Over the past two years at my high school, thanks to some rumours, I have found myself with the reputation of a stalker. This has seen different groups of people at different points in time follow me around, steal my property, burn it, and continue to spread word of my supposed misdeeds. One morning, I am reading text messages on my mobile phone and standing out in a courtyard. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a boy who is particularly short, looking quite angry. As I finish my messages and turn to leave, he and his group of friends approach me.)

Short Boy: *calling out from the other side of the courtyard* “Stop taking photos!”

Me: *knowing what to expect* “Pardon?”

Short Boy: “Why were you taking photos of me?”

Me: “I was not taking photos of you.”

Short Boy: “Yes, you were! I saw you!”

Me: “No, I wasn’t. I was messaging my friends.”

(The short boy looks to his own friends for backup. They start murmuring amongst themselves to provide a nice background ambiance.)

Short Boy: *with renewed vigor* “You were taking photos of me; I know it!”

(This goes back and forth for a while, with me asking why I would bother to take photos in the first place, and him and his friends interrupting with the same sentence. Eventually, he switches it up.)

Short Boy: “Show me your camera roll!”

Me: “No, it’s my phone, and it’s private information.”

Short Boy: “That settles it! You took the photos and you’re not letting me look!”

(I walk away from them, and they don’t follow but shout insults from a safe distance. Now, I need to talk to friends about this, because my dealings with the popular kids always end well for them, and I’d like to tell someone my side of the story. I have my phone to my ear and someone on the line when they walk through the doorway.)

Me: “Oh, there they are now.”

Short Boy: “He’s deleting the photos!”

Me: *on phone* “As you’ve just heard, they’re giving chase.”

(They realise that I’m actually on the phone and back off, giving me an opportunity to end the call and run away… right into another friend. We move into a corridor and I explain exactly what happened, and we agree to see the dean as soon as we can, which is different from our usual tactic of ignoring and trying to keep a moral high ground. The doors open and in walk several people. It turns out that this kid is a part of a big clique at school, the same clique that tried to call me out for “stalking” at the start of the year, and also the same clique that bullied my special needs brother on the bus home both this and last year. This could not get any worse.)

Girl: “There he is; look!”

(They look. I am holding my phone.)

Short Boy: “I saw you taking photos! You’re deleting them right now!”

Me: “I’m telling you, I have not taken any photos of you! You’re all vain p***ks who are so paranoid that–“

(My friend pulls my arm and together we walk away.)

Friend: *hurried* “Don’t bother with them. Come on.”

(They follow, obviously. I see that one of them, the ringleader of the previous accusers, is pointing his phone at me. It does, in fact, get worse; I hate having my face recorded.)

Boy With Phone: “Why’d you take photos of him, huh? That’s called a breach of privacy!”

(I’m fuming at their hypocrisy, but remain silent. My friend makes a daring move and yanks the phone right out of the kid’s hands. It is recording on a popular messaging app that deletes messages after they’re sent, so she stops it, but before she can delete it the phone is swiped back and we scamper away. The bell rings and two classes go by, and in my interval period I take it straight to the dean. I’m asked to identify who the students are, and relay the names of some people, but I cannot name the short boy. By lunchtime, they’ve figured out who he is by association and the dean reaches a decision.)

Dean: “I’m going to come up with what’s basically a contract that says that you can’t talk to him and he can’t talk to you. I’m doing this early on so that it doesn’t escalate.”

Me: “That sounds a lot better than what’s happened in the past. Thank you so much.”

(I left, and found the nine-strong group waiting at my corridor, having turfed my group out. We moved constantly and they followed until classes ended. By the following day’s lunchtime, the “contract” had been drafted and the short boy had confessed and signed it. There were next to no loopholes: Neither of us could go near each other, or send our friends after each other, or discuss each other; the contract would no longer be in effect at the end of the school year. I happily signed, and Short Boy and I stayed well away. Unfortunately, they’ve been exploiting as many loopholes as they can; while Short Boy is not allowed to send his friend over, there was nothing saying that his friends couldn’t do it of their own accord. There wasn’t anything saying that the friends couldn’t talk about me of their own volition, either, leading most of that sort of population to go into a frenzy whenever I so much as hold my mobile. One of the new outcomes of the two-year-long saga is that I now become really anxious when I hear a [Popular Phone] camera. On the flip side, school’s ending soon and hopefully, after the exams and school holidays, by next year people will have forgotten about this particular incident.)

 

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