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Needed To Get A Better Reading On The Situation

| Learning | May 15, 2017

(I am in kindergarten, and my class has just started learning to read. However, due to a disorder I have, I miss the day my teacher hands out picture books for the class to read. When I come in the next day, she forgets to give me a book and instead just gives me the math from the other day. As such, whenever the class is supposed to be reading, I take out my binder and just daydream. This is five months after she forgot about me, during a reading period. She is walking around to check and advise the other kids on their reading. She comes over to me.)

Teacher: “[My Name]! Why aren’t you reading?!”

Me: “I don’t have a book?”

Teacher: “Yes, you do! I gave every child in this room a book! Where is your backpack! Bring it over to me!”

(I get my backpack and bring it to her. She spends a full 10 minutes looking through my backpack over and over for the non-existent book. She finally stops.)

Teacher: “You must have left it at home. For now, you can read this one, but you better have it back tomorrow!”

(Panicking, I spend the rest of the night searching the house for a book, and eventually stop and go to bed. The next day…)

Teacher: “Did you find the book, [My Name]?”

Me: “No, Mrs. [Teacher]. It wasn’t there!”

Teacher: “Are you kidding me? What’s your parents’ phone number!”

(I gave her my mom’s number, who was at work. The teacher ended up calling her, and my mom was not pleased to have been panicked because she thought I was in danger. The teacher was forced to admit that she had forgotten about me, and gave me a book to read. 20 years later, I’m not illiterate and can speed read. No thanks to my teacher, though.)

Billed As A Different Name

| Related | April 11, 2017

(My dad’s given name is “William,” but from the moment he was born everyone called him “Billy.” This ended up causing problems on his first day of kindergarten. My dad was off in a corner.)

Teacher: “William, please sit over here.”

(My dad continued playing. He had no idea the teacher was addressing him.)

Teacher: “William, come over here!”

(Dad continued playing. The teacher walks over to him.)

Teacher: “WILLIAM! Why aren’t you listening to me?”

Dad: “My name’s not William. It’s Billy.”

(The teacher called my grandma to tell her about what happened. When my dad got home from school, he and my grandma had to have a long talk about what his name really was.)

Celebrating Thanksgiving And Independence Day At The Same Time

| Learning | January 30, 2017

(When I was in kindergarten, we made Thanksgiving placemats by coloring in pictures of a pilgrim, which my teacher then laminated for us. I decided to color my pilgrim green because I didn’t like leaving a lot of white space.)

Teacher: “Why is your pilgrim green?”

Me: “He’s an alien.”

Teacher: “There weren’t any aliens at the first Thanksgiving.”

Me: “Now there is!”

(When I showed it to my dad after school, he pointed out that technically all the pilgrims were aliens because they came from a different continent. We still have that placemat somewhere.)

Royal Colors

| Learning | October 27, 2016

(My aunt is teaching a group of small children, talking to them about Disney princesses.)

Aunt: “I rather like Belle. Which one is your favorite?”

Little Girl: “I like Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella. I don’t like Tiana.”

Aunt: “Why not?”

Little Girl: “I just don’t like her color.”

Aunt: *feeling uncomfortable* “Um, why not? I think she is very pretty.”

Little Girl: “Yes, but I really don’t like green. I like blue and pink.”

Aunt: “Oh. Well, that’s fine, then!”

Archaeopteryx Tricks

| Learning | September 12, 2016

(I am a precocious child, and learn how to read and write at a very early age, mainly thanks to my father. I’m about five or six years old and in nursery school (kindergarten). During writing lessons, the teacher has us write the obligatory ‘what we did during vacation’ story. Halfway through the lesson, I raise my hand for the teacher’s attention.)

Me: “Miss, how do you spell ‘rhamphorhynchus’?”

Teacher: “[My Name], there’s no such word.”

Me: “Yes, there is. It’s a type of dinosaur bird.”

Teacher: “No, there isn’t. Now get on with your work.”

(Undeterred, I get off my chair and walk to the school library, pick out a dinosaur book I already know they have (I had the same book at home), and walk back to the class. As I walk up to the teacher’s desk I open the book to the correct page and slide it on to her desk, stabbing my finger down on to the page.)

Me: *victoriously* “RHAMPHORHYNCHUS!”

(As the teacher stared at me in shock, I picked up the book and wandered back to my desk to finish my story. I later learned that my father was called into school a few days after and chastised by the teacher for teaching me how to read and write and making her look bad…)