I teach Japanese language classes online. In Japanese, many words sound very similar to each other, so beginner students frequently end up saying the most outlandish (and sometimes profane) things by accident.

In this particular class, [Student #1] was supposed to say, “I bought fish.” (Watashi wa sakana wo kaimashita.)

Student #1: “Watashi wa… sakana… ni… k… kikimashita.”

Me: “Okay, you started great, but then you ended up questioning the fish. How do you say ‘buy’?”

[Student #1] corrected herself.

Sometime later, I heard a notification go off on her device with a characteristic “blurb”.

Me: “Oh, what’s that bubbling sound?”

Student #2: “The fish must be back.”

I submitted a story about the worst boss I ever had before. Time to redress the balance by telling the story of the best boss I ever had.

When I left school, I managed to get a place at an organisation that was kind of like a college but only for certain subjects. They did electronics, computer programming, and office skills. I was in the electronics department. I genuinely loved going to that place and was gutted when my time was up. For a while, I would pop in every now and then to see how everyone was, and I was always welcomed with open arms.

Jump forward a few years, and I’d been made redundant. One of the options given to me was to apply for the same place again. My “interview” comprised the manager and me shooting the breeze for about thirty minutes before I was told I could join the next week.  

A few weeks after that, I’d had a few job interviews and was waiting on the results. The manager called me into his office and told me one of them had rung him up for a reference. It must have been pretty good as they told him I’d gotten the job, but they also said not to tell me. He did tell me, though, and told me how pleased he was for me.

While in that job, the manager asked if I’d do them a huge favour. They had some new, really expensive software that no one was able to use yet, and some visitors were coming to see the place in action. I had trained in the software elsewhere a few months earlier, so he asked if I’d come in that day and put on a demonstration for the guests. I jumped at it and set up the best demo I could.

At that point, I didn’t have my own PC and wanted to build myself one. One of the job placements I’d had was for a company that built computers, so I had the skills but didn’t have the money to get the parts. I figured it was worth a shot asking if they had any old components I could have to go toward building one, but I was told they didn’t as the computers they had were all in one system.

Then, he leaned in close and whispered, “Of course, I could always loan you one of our older systems and lose the paperwork.”

I left there that day with an entire PC, complete with monitor and accessories. That’s how I ended up with my first PC.

This was many years ago, and the place has sadly gone now, but I’ll never forget how great they were.

This happened in my current English class. We have a project for character analysis. We get to pick the character, as long as they are from a book we haven’t read yet and said book isn’t a graphic novel. I have been meaning to get around to reading an English translation of “Journey To The West” for a while, so I think this is the perfect chance. We have weeks before the project is due, and I happen to be a fast reader.

“Journey To The West” is a rather popular Chinese novel that was written in the sixteenth century. If you haven’t heard of the novel, you might have heard of the most popular character from the novel, despite not being the main protagonist: Sun Wukong, the Monkey King. I’ve decided to pick him for my project.

I’m reading in the school’s library, purposely sitting in the “quiet zone” as I get easily annoyed with people talking while I’m trying to read.

These three boys, obviously friends, sit down at the table and start chatting. Okay, I’m a bit peeved. I recognize them from my English class, too. We’ll call them [Boy #1], [Boy #2] and [Boy #3].

Soon, they turn their attention to me, and since obviously I’m trying to read, they start asking me questions to get a reaction. I give the driest, short responses I can and hope they’ll get bored. Eventually, [Boy #2] asks what I’m reading.

Me: “Journey To The West.”

Boy #2: “Oh, I’m reading that, too.”

[Boy #1] snickers, finding this hilarious.

I don’t believe a word he says, but I’m not going to throw out any accusations.

Me: “Uh-huh.”

Boy #3: “I’ve already finished it. The ending sucks.”

Again, I don’t believe a word.

Me: “Does it now?”

Boy #3: “Yeah, the main character dies.”

I’m slightly amused at this point, really annoyed, but amused by how far these guys are going with the lie.

Me: *Desperately trying to keep my tone flat* “Good, I hated him.”

The three guys burst into laughter. They leave after a few more “spoilers” for the book. I’m left to read in peace for a few more minutes before my next class starts, a small plan half-forming in my mind.

Skip to English class the next day.

Teacher: “Okay, class! I’m going to call a few people out to tell us about the character they’re analyzing and the book they’re from. Remember, no judgment! Let’s see…”

She goes on calling on a few students. I really don’t like answering questions in class due to anxiety, and the teacher is familiar with this, but she does have to be fair, so eventually, I do get called on.

Teacher: “[My Name], who’s your character?”

Me: “Oh. Sun Wukong, from Journey To The West.”

Teacher: “That’s quite a long read. Do you know anyone else who’s read it? I don’t know if you’ll be able to complete the book in time, so maybe there’s someone who can fill you in on details?”

I start to shake my head, but I pause.

Me: “I think [Boy #3] told me he finished it.”

The expression of confusion on [Boy #3]’s face then slowly turned to one that said, “Oh, s***.”

Totally worth getting called on.

Sadly, the teacher didn’t ask him much about it, and [Boy #3] just gave really vague answers on when he’d read the book and if he’d read it at all.

He and his friends haven’t messed with me since, though!

My first real teaching job, after a few years of substitute teaching, was at a very small school. Out of about sixty teachers, serving all ages from kindergarten to high school, I was the only teacher there with less than ten years of full-time teaching experience. Of course, I was expected to magically be at the same level as all the other teachers, despite it being my first real teaching job.

The school decided halfway through the year that I wasn’t doing well enough, and they pulled my classes from me in an attempt to get me to quit. They kept me on as, basically, a warm body who could step in to substitute teach if other teachers were gone, tutor kids one-on-one if they were struggling in their regular classes, or help with various administrative “busy work” tasks. But it was obvious that I was supposed to resign because I wasn’t teaching.

The joke was on them. I had an apartment lease, so I still needed the job, and I actually enjoyed all those random tasks more than I enjoyed the actual teaching; it was all the fun of working with the kids every day without any of the headache of writing lessons, grading papers, etc.

CONTENT WARNING: Sexual Assault Of A Child

This is the story of how my oldest daughter got suspended for “assaulting a colleague” and its legal conclusion.

The school called to tell me about the “assault”, so I changed into a suit, dolled up a bit (to look more “respectable”), and went there. I entered the principal’s office, where my daughter was waiting.

Principal: “Ms. [My Name], the reason I called you here is that [Daughter] here assaulted a boy, elbowing him in the nose and then punching him, knocking two teeth out. This behaviour is unacceptable for a young lady. As such, she’ll be suspended for a month.”

Me: *To my daughter* “Why did you do that, honey?”

Daughter: “He came from behind me, put his hands up my shirt, grabbed my breasts, and said, ‘Nice t*ts.’ So, I did as uncle taught me.”

Me: *To the principal* “Is this true? You’re punishing my daughter for defending herself? Then what is his punishment for sexually assaulting her?”

Principal: “No punishment. He was assaulted — something very traumatic for an eleven-year-old boy. Also, what he did is normal for boys his age.”

Me: “Okay. Can I have that in writing? Everything you just said?”

Principal: “Here’s the report with the witnessing teacher’s account.”

I picked up the report, which said exactly what the principal had just told me. Then, I got up, grabbed my daughter’s hand, and turned to the principal.

Me: “Now, I am going to the nice police officer outside, and I am going to press charges against you and this school for failing to protect its student from sexual assault and discrimination. Good day.”

(They have police due to a program called “Escola Segura”, which stations cops near schools.)

We walked outside, and I did press charges, showing the report to the cop, who took a picture of it and gave me a report number so I could follow its progress.

The next day, I woke [Daughter] up at 9:30 am and told her to take a shower, so we could go to the ER to get her hand X-rayed, just to be safe.

About twenty minutes later, I heard the water running, and then I heard her screaming. I ran into the bathroom and found her staring at the mirror, tears running down her face. Why? Her chest had bruises in the shape of the little a**hole’s hands — a very traumatizing thing for any woman, let alone an eleven-year-old girl.

I helped her shower and get dressed, and then I called the police, giving them the case number and requesting their presence with a forensic tech at the hospital, also explaining why.

We got there and were escorted through a side door. The tech (a woman) along with a female nurse took pictures and measured the bruises. While this was happening, I was present and giving a statement to a CPS (Child Protective Services) lady, who was shocked at the principal’s reaction to the whole thing. The police officers informed me that they would be adding assault charges against a kid who did this, beyond the ones already filed against him and the school.

As soon as we got home, [Daughter] curled up in my bed, cried under the sheets, and fell asleep. I was feeling murderous. 

My husband and I and our lawyer had a meeting a few days later with the representatives from the Education Department and the Justice Department. They informed us that the principal had been fired and forbidden from working with children. My daughter’s suspension had been revoked, but they would be giving her the time needed for her to recover, and they offered €100,000 in compensation if we didn’t go to court. We agreed.

As for the kid who assaulted my daughter, he was expelled from the school. Legally, we can’t sue him for damages as he is a minor, but the State is proceeding with the criminal charges, and they are going to offer him a five-year suspended sentence and a restraining order so he can’t get within 200m of my daughter. Should he refuse, he’ll get five years in a correction house and between two to five years in an adult prison.

We agreed to their proposal.

They also asked if we wanted [Daughter] to be homeschooled. She’d have the full support of the State, and she would only have to take the tests and exams at the school. We later talked with her and she chose to be homeschooled for the rest of the year since we’re moving abroad next year anyway.

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