(I’m in a class about journalism writing, and our lecturer is explaining the differences between tabloid and broadsheet newspapers. My lecturer is from Scotland and has quite a heavy accent.)

Lecturer: “The example on the left is from a tabloid, and the one on the right is from a broads***.”

(His face grew red and he hid his face in his hands while we laughed at his mishap.)

(I go to a college in Florida that attracts a lot of kids from the Northeastern US. I don’t think much of it until one day at the beginning of my senior year. We are doing a case study as a class, and the girl in front of me raises her hand to speak. Note: I’m a local, and that will be important later.)

Professor: “Yes, [Girl]?”

Girl: “Oh, this reminds me of something that happened back home. You guys know where [Restaurant] is, of course. Well, remember when–”

(She launches into a story filled with references from her hometown that I am confused by. Half the class is nodding and laughing; the other half is looking at each other and shrugging. The kid on my left pokes me.)

Kid: “Do you even know where we are right now? I’m lost.”

Me: “No idea.”

Kid: “Does she realize that some of us have no clue?”

Me: “I guess not.”

(I raise my hand.)

Professor: “Yes, [My Name]?”

Me: “Where, exactly, are we right now? I’m confused.”

Girl: “I’m talking about [Her Hometown], obviously. It’s just like our case study! How could you not know?”

Me: “Because I don’t live there?”

Girl: “But everyone knows [Her Hometown]! Where are you even from?”

Me: *points toward the main highway* “About five minutes that way.”

Girl: “Floridians go here, too?! I didn’t think you could!”

Me: “Did you really think this college was just for Northeasterners?”

Professor: “Okay, okay! Let’s stick to less obscure references next time, shall we? And yes, if I remember my records completely, about half of you are locals. It’s good to have all of you here.”

(I ended up taking two more classes with that professor next semester. He was great at consistently shutting down BS.)

(In a class on ancient cultures, we are studying the Minoans. Their customary dress for women involved a top that went around the bust, leaving much exposed. My professor mentions a male friend of hers who expressed the wish that these fashions still existed in our culture.)

Professor: “Yeah, that’d be great: you go to the mall, and there they are!”

Guy: “Yeah!”

Professor: “You go to the grocery store, and there they are!”

Guy: “YEAH!”

Professor: “You go to your grandma’s house, and there they are!”

Guy: “Yea– Aaaaaaaaargggh!”

(To set the scene, it is important to know that while I am fair-skinned, my maternal grandmother is Hawai’ian and Portuguese. I am the ONLY person in my family who even remotely looks Caucasian. As a result of this strange background, I have a good handle on rudimentary Portuguese. I am at work in my own classroom during my planning period, making a quick phone call to my grandmother who lives in another state. A coworker I don’t really know comes in. It’s also important to know my grandfather was half-Caucasian. I tell my grandmother that I need to go and will call her later, in Portuguese.)

Coworker: “What the h*** is that?”

(I tell my grandmother in Portuguese that I love her and end by calling her Avo, my pet name for her, which means “grandmother,” to my knowledge.)  

Coworker: “What was that?! Don’t you know English? What kind of [Hispanic slur] language is that?!”

Me: “My grandmother prefers to use Portuguese with me on the phone. It’s kind of how we preserve a little piece of her mother. Anyway, what did you need?”

Coworker: “You speak that [Hispanic slur] language on purpose? I don’t know if I want to ask someone who doesn’t know to use English in public for help!”

Me: “I clearly know English, [Coworker]. My family isn’t largely Caucasian. Didn’t you know that?”

Coworker: “Oh. So, you’re like, mixed?”

Me: “Sure, why not. What. Did. You. Need?” 

(I just want them gone.)

Coworker: “Oh, I wanted to know if you could help me with this history class I have to take for my degree. I need to write a paper on Pearl Harbor. [Department Chair] said you were the person to ask about where to get good sources.”

Me: “Sure, I can give you a list. I’m kind of confused, though. Why are you having trouble finding things?”

Coworker: “I keep seeing f****** [Hispanic slur] in the pictures and these weird-a** long names with vowels. Why were we so hung up on a place with no white people?! I mean, it looks like it was in Mexico!”

Me: *head-desks*

(This is 2008. In year 11, once again, we’re doing a section about relationships and safe sex. I have a fairly outspoken male classmate who is actually really easy to get on with and whom most the teachers like.)

Teacher: “So, when a husband and wife–“

Classmate: “Why they gotta be husband and wife?”

Teacher: “Good point. When a man and a woman–“

Classmate: “Why they gotta be a man and a woman?”

Teacher: “Er… When a male and a female–“

Classmate: “Why they gotta be a male and a female?”

Teacher: “What do you want from me?”

Classmate: “Why can’t it be ‘a man and a man’ or ‘a woman and a woman’ or… ‘a genderless and a genderless.’ Let’s get a bit of inclusivity in here!”

Teacher: “Last year, I had parents complain due to inclusivity.”

Classmate: “Well, that’s stupid.”

Teacher: “I know… So, when a person and a person–“

Classmate: “Why they gotta be people?”

Teacher: “You are not five!”