(On this particular day, the teacher announces for the next week we’ll be playing volleyball. It should be noted that while I’m in good shape, I’m not good at most sports.)

Me: *bouncing excitedly* “Ooh! Ooh! Volleyball! I love volleyball!”

Classmate #1: “I’m sure you do, honey, but you’re not very good with sports.”

Me: *excitedly* “But I’m good at this one! Ask my family!”

Friend: *nodding* “Yeah, she’s better than me and I’m pretty d*** good!”

Classmate #2: “I’m sure they’ll say you’re good but that’s what family is supposed to do.” *scowls at my friend* “You shouldn’t lie about your friend like that. It’s very mean.”

(I open my mouth to argue but my friend shakes her head.)

Friend: “Just let them find out.”

(We divide into four teams and, as usual, I’m picked last making me the last to serve on my team. Any time the ball starts to come my way, one of my teammates leaps to intercept it, thinking I’ll miss. When it comes time for me to serve, my teammates all sigh.)

Classmate #1: “Here we go, girls. It’s going to be the other team’s ball here again in a minute.”

(I serve the ball and the other team, who apparently didn’t think the ball would even make it over the net, misses the return and it hits the ground with a loud boom. My teammates and the opposing team all stare at me with wide eyes.)

Classmate #3: “Holy s***! This girl’s got some power in her hand! Talk about some OOMPH!”

(My classmates never again leapt in my way during volleyball.)

(I am working on my Ph.D., and am also a teaching assistant for a dramatic literature class where students are assigned a play to write a paper about. Normally, I tried to reread the play as a refresher before grading the papers, but one was just so long that I didn’t have the time, so I used Cliff’s Notes. When I begin to grade the paper, I discover I am actually just reading the Cliff’s Notes again. I underlined everything that had been plagiarized, all but a few connecting sentences, and hand it back to the student the next day. My note on the essay: This is unacceptable. ‘F.’)

Student: *in front of the whole class* “What do you MEAN, ‘F’?! You b******! My father is a lawyer and he’ll sue you for everything you’re worth, a**hole!”

Me: “Almost every word in this ten-page paper was lifted directly from Cliff’s Notes!”

Student: “So? My roommate wrote this paper when she took the class last year and got an A! I copied it from her! Why the h*** am I getting an F?!”

Me: “Are you telling me you plagiarized a plagiarized paper?”

Student: “What the f*** does that mean?!”

Me: “You copied this paper from your roommate, right?”

Student: “Yeah!”

Me: “Well, apparently she copied it from someone else, too. You can’t take credit for someone else’s work. If last year’s TA had realized that she had copied it, she would have failed, too.”

Student: “But you never TOLD us we couldn’t copy our papers!”

(She appealed her grade on those grounds. Naturally, she didn’t win, even with help from her father the lawyer.)

(I have been going to a biology class for some time and have had the same lab partner all throughout. He’s in the army, and is probably over six feet tall and in his 20s. I’m only five feet tall, and barely 19. It’s one our final labs and we are to cut open a pig. He’s been laughing about the idea the whole semester.)

Professor: “Follow the directions in your lab book. Raise your hands if you need help.”

Me: *tying the legs open, getting the scalpel ready, I cut it open*

Partner: *pushes back from the lab table*

Me: “Don’t tell me I have to do all the work?”

Partner: “Hey, you need the class more than me.” *covering his mouth and nose*

Me: “Come on, it’s just a little pig.”

Partner: “Yeah, you’re right. The poor thing could have been some great bacon.”

(On Halloween, my sister trips and breaks her foot. She is given a walking cast and a pair of crutches. The next day our mom drives her to school and brings the doctor’s note to the nurse.)

Nurse: “[Sister] can’t bring the crutches with her. The note doesn’t say anything about them.”

Mom: “She’s got a broken foot; she needs the crutches to walk.”

Nurse: “She needs a note for them. This one only covers the walking cast.”

Mom: “Are you serious?”

(My sister ended up spending the day at home while my mom called the doctor to get a note for the crutches. We’re not sure what the nurse thought she was doing by trying to force my sister to walk on a broken foot, but that was normal behavior for the woman.)

(I am speech delayed. I am more adamant about reading, since my mother figures I can still read even though I can’t talk. A few years later, this causes me to be a few reading levels ahead of my classmates, and makes me a bit of a know-it-all when it comes to spelling. In a kindergarten class, we are practicing the alphabet and deciding what animals go with what letter. We reach ‘P’ and understandably everyone gets stuck.)

Me: “Pterodactyl!”

Student #1: “That doesn’t start with ‘p!'”

Student #2: “Yeah, that starts with ‘t!’

Me: “Nu-uh! It starts with ‘p!’ Right, [Teacher]?”

Teacher: “No, [My Name], it starts with ‘t.'”

Me: “Nu-uh! I read a book and it started with ‘p!'”

Teacher: “Sweetie, it starts with ‘t.’ Can you think of any other animal that starts with ‘p?'”

(I ended up hiding in the cubby area. My grandfather had to come pick me up because I refused to come out because they wouldn’t believe me.)