When I was in middle school, we got a new teacher who had terrible anger issues. He threw chairs, snapped clipboards in half, and threw a student‘s backpack out of the second-floor window for not paying attention. These are just a few examples; it was a long year. My experience with him was a bit more severe.

I was a disruptive child, to say the least — always talking, texting, passing notes, and playing around. For this reason, my angry teacher particularly disliked me. One day, as I was talking and distracting my friends, he snapped. He walked over to me, grabbed me up by my arm, yelled something, and then pulled me into the classroom closet and slammed the door. This closet was used for the Spanish teacher, so there was a chair, a little desk, and a desk lamp, but it was still very cramped. I figured he would let me out when class was over, so I waited. And waited. I started to get anxious, so I pushed on the door, but it wouldn’t move. He yelled at me to knock it off.

About an hour passed, and I heard the bell ring. I was so excited! I grabbed up all my things and started bouncing impatiently waiting for him to open up. Everyone left. He didn’t open the door. I started to cry and yank at the door but it wasn’t budging. Then, I heard a loud scraping noise and the lock turning, and three of my friends were there to help me escape!

When I walked out, none of them laughed or joked. They looked scared. I looked around and saw why. My teacher had locked the door and moved a shelf in front of it to ensure I couldn’t get out. He wasn’t in the room. He left me there. I would not have gotten out if not for my friends. 

I wish I could say I told the principal or my parents and something bad happened to this man, but I didn’t. I was a kid and thought I did something bad and didn’t want to get in more trouble. The most I can tell you is he lasted one more year before his temper finally got him fired.

I’m chatting with a classmate I don’t know very well and the talk turns to music.

Classmate: “So, what kind of music do you like?”

Me: *Nervous laugh* “It’s pretty weird.”

Classmate: “It can’t be that weird. Come on!”

Me: “I like sea shanties and just about anything Celtic, but my favorite band is Canadian Christian punk rock.”

He takes a moment to consider this.

Classmate: “Most of the time, when someone says they have weird taste in music, it’s not actually that weird, but yeah, that is out there.”

He was so curious as to what the punk rock band would sound like that I played him a snippet of one of their songs. I may have made him a punk rock convert.

I work every Tuesday at my kid’s middle school store. An eighth-grader that I know comes up and asks for $13 worth of gummy fruit snacks.

Me: “That’s a lot of fruit snacks. Are you going to share with all your friends?”

Eighth-Grader: “No, I’m eating them all for lunch.”

Me: “But you have braces, and I’m going to see your Mom on Friday. Do you think she’ll want to hear this?”

Eighth-Grader: “I don’t care; it’s my money.”

Friday, I see his mom and tell her. 

Mom: “So, that’s why he had a stomach ache and wouldn’t eat dinner!”

I work as a student janitor at my college. Most of my coworkers are international students. It’s the first day of fall break and new eight-week classes start the day we come back. A group of my Serbian coworkers are moving furniture from the classrooms to clean the floor.

A man wanders onto the floor and into the classroom. I’m outside in the hallway. The man says something incomprehensible.

Serbian #1: “Sorry, again?”

Man: “What?”

He repeats what he said, still indistinct. The Serbians start discussing in Serbian. 

Serbian #2: “No, we’re in the class.”

Man: “What did you say?”

Serbian #1: “What?”

Man: “What?”

Serbian #2: “Please leave. Go.”

A moment later, the man comes out to the hallway.

Me: “Excuse me, maybe I can help you? What can I help you with?”

Man: *In a thick southern drawl* “I have a class today in that room and the guys in there are moving furniture and not speaking English!”

Me: “Classes actually start on Monday, and that’s the cleaning crew.”

Man: “Whatever. They need to learn to speak English so they can communicate with us Americans. It’s not like I can speak Russian or Polish or whatever they’re speaking.”

I don’t bother to correct him and just send him out.

Serbian #1: “What was that man doing?”

Me: “Looking for his class. His days got mixed up.”

Serbian #1: “Oh, good. I’m glad you could help him. I don’t know what he was speaking but it definitely wasn’t English!”

Our class is supposed to take a midterm exam on a Thursday. However, in order to get disability accommodations, I have to take it the day before so I have already finished it by the time Thursday rolls around. That weekend, both of our basketball teams are playing in the Final Four. There is a bomb threat on Thursday and the entire campus is on lockdown, so the exam is postponed until Tuesday.

On Monday night, the men’s basketball team wins the national championship and naturally, I am up late in jubilation, but I still show up for class the next morning since I forget the class is taking the exam I already took.

Me: “Are we going to go over the exam today?”

Professor: “No, you are going to take the exam today.”

Me: “But I already took it.”

Professor: “But nobody else has, so they need to take it before we can go over it.”

Me: “So why am I here?”

Professor: “I don’t know; I was wondering the same thing.”