(We are about the take our first quiz of the semester. Our professor starts to hand out our quiz papers.)
Classmate: “Thank you.”
Professor: “You know, I’ve never understood why you all say ‘thank you’ when we hand out a quiz. It’s like saying thank you for the ice pick that you have to gouge your eye with.”
(Our politics class is studying for an essay on the US constitution, with our teacher trying to give us a few hints.)
Teacher: “Okay, so what else does the constitution involve?”
(Silence…)
Teacher: “Come on! You all know this. It’s the f-word…”
(The entire class erupts into laughter. The teacher looks slightly perturbed.)
Teacher: “Now come on; mentioning the f-word can get you at least five marks.”
(The class laughs even harder. It suddenly dawns on the teacher what she has just implied.)
Teacher: “FEDERALISM! The word I was looking for was FEDERALISM! For goodness sake, don’t put the other word in your essay!”
(It is our first day of criminal law class. The teacher wants to see just how well we can spot a lie. Each of us takes turns standing up, saying our names, and two true things and one lie about ourselves. The other students have to guess which is which.)
Student #1: “My name is [Name]. I was born in Sweden; I’m allergic to tomatoes, and I love comic books.”
Student #2: “You don’t love comic books! You’re a girl!”
Student #1: “Actually, I do.”
(After a while, no one can guess the lie, so she reveals that she is not in fact, allergic to tomatoes. Then it’s my turn…)
Me: “My name is [Name]. I don’t like dogs; I have eight tattoos, and I love romance novels.”
Student #2: “You do not have that many tattoos! You’re a girl!”
Me: “You know, ‘you’re a girl’ is not a proper justification for not believing something. And you’re wrong, by the way.”
Student #2: “No! I’m right! You can’t have that many tattoos! Where I come from it’s just not okay for women to have tattoos!”
(The teacher is pinching the bridge of his nose.)
Teacher: “Shut up, [Student #2].”
(The teacher turns to me.)
Teacher: “What was your lie?”
Me: *grinning* “I absolutely loathe romance novels.”
Student #2: “But you’re a GIRL! You have to like them; it’s like a requirement or something.”
Me: “Nah, not interested; I prefer horror and thrillers.”
Student #2: “You shouldn’t even be considered a woman!”
Me: “Fine. I won’t consider you a man, then.”
Student #2: “Oh, no you don’t! I’m a man, and I demand to be treated like one!”
Me: “Start acting like one.”
(I am in an advanced-level history class on early modern England. The professor is very down to earth, and explains things in very understandable ways.)
Professor: “You have to understand that the New England colonies were never that important to England. In some ways, Newfoundland was more important. Newfoundland, for example, produced cod which is useful; New England only produced Puritans, which are a**holes.”
(The school offers high school level math classes to middle school students if they prove to be advanced. The class is divided into two parts: one to organize and grade homework, the other to learn the lessons. At this time, I’m in sixth grade and struggling with the organization part due to ADHD. I am the youngest student in the class, and have been told I must have my homework checked by the teacher before I leave the class. This day, we have a sub. I hand in my homework…)
Me: “Can you check me, Miss. [Substitute’s Name]?”
Substitute Teacher: “Sure, Hun.”
(The substitute teacher adjusts her glasses and looks at my problems.)
Substitute Teacher: “Well, Hun, I can barely read your work.”
(I am deflated, and afraid I have to redo it all again.)
Substitute Teacher: “But, you got them all correct! You’ve already got the handwriting and smarts down to be a doctor!”
(That was the most encouraging thing that was ever said to me while I was in middle-school. Six years later, I graduated 13th in my class, with honors, heading off to work on a computer engineering degree at a well-known university.)
