Sucks To Your A**-Mar!

, , , , , | Learning | June 23, 2020

I am asthmatic. It’s not the worst case of it in the world, but it’s not exactly mild, either, and I’ve gone to hospital for it more than once.

I’m also not particularly well-liked at this school, for various reasons, the main one being that most students are very homophobic, and I have a very stereotypical “lesbian” haircut and wear a rainbow pin on my school blazer. I get bullied a lot as a result.

Students at this school like to spray deodorant a lot, just in the air. They claim it’s because the classrooms smell bad — they’re not that bad, really. This could set off my asthma and even send me to hospital. For this reason, I always ask them politely to stop and explain my asthma and medical history. Most people apologise and stop, as they recognise the gravity of this situation. Some don’t.

On one occasion, we have a substitute teacher in class, and I am sat near one of my biggest tormentors. He decides to spray deodorant, under the table as if he’s trying to hide it, but he’s making it very obvious. I tell him to stop and take my inhaler, pointedly, just in case he’d forgotten I’m asthmatic.

He looks at me, taking my prescribed medication, whispers to his friend, giggles, and does it again.

And again.

After about a minute, I can feel my breath getting worse despite having taken my inhaler, so I look him in the eyes and ask, “Do you want to be tried for manslaughter?”

He looks confused, so I continue. “Yeah, if you keep doing that you could kill me. Did you know that?”

At this point, his eyes are pretty wide and he’s gone slack-jawed. I wait for him to say something, perhaps an apology, but he doesn’t make a sound, so I leave the room to get away from the deodorant air.

Later on, I learn that some girls from another of my classes had told him I “get annoyed” when people spray deodorant. I think they forgot to mention that it could send me to hospital, too!

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This Teacher’s People Skills Are A Bit Flabby

, , , , , | Learning | June 21, 2020

I’m in PE class. I am not a very sports-inclined student. I’m struggling to shoot a basketball into the hoop, so I ask my PE teacher for help.

In response to this, she reaches out, squeezes my upper arm, and shakes her head.

PE Teacher: “Not much up here, is there?”

I was speechless. I did not ask this teacher for help again.

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Follow Your Dreams! Just Not Those…

, , , , | Learning | June 19, 2020

I am in the “Gifted And Talented” program in my school. Everyone in this program is expected to study more “academic” subjects. There’s an assembly that those in the program are meant to attend about university, which is years away for us; I haven’t even decided whether I want to go yet.

I happen to arrive first and see a teacher who I haven’t spoken to properly in a while.

Teacher: “Oh, hello, [My Name]! How are you?”

We exchange pleasantries.

Teacher: “So, what GCSEs are you taking?”

Me: “Well, I’m taking Computer Science, French—”

She nods approvingly.

Me: “—and then Drama and Fine Art. Those are my real passions, and I love studying them.”

When I mention the arts, she gives me a shocked and horrified look.

Teacher: *Waveringly* “Oh, that’s nice, dear… What are you thinking about for university?”

Me: “I haven’t really decided. If I do go, I’ll be studying the arts, of course. I most likely won’t go to any of the more famous ones, and I may not even go at all. I’m not too sure if it’s really for me. I want to go into freelance illustration when I’m older, and maybe performance work, too.”

As I spoke, her shocked and horrified expression grew more and more comically intense, and when I finished speaking, she excused herself from the room. Perhaps she’d prefer it if I wanted to be a software engineer.

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No Body Knows What That’s About

, , , , , | Learning | May 31, 2020

I’m a new secondary school student. Our school is holding a fair where all the clubs advertise themselves to the new students the next day.

This happens right at the end of the school day. A student dashes past our classrooms with what looks like a bunch of bodies with their heads and limbs dangling out of the sack slung over his shoulders.

Student: *Bellowing* “Out of the way, out of the way! Guy with a corpse coming through!”

Half a dozen other students run right behind him, each carrying what look like body bags with heads sticking out of them and shouting the same line.

Classmate: “What the f***?!”

That basically summed up our reaction to those corpse-carrying students.

The very next day, I found the club that had done that. Apparently, it was a school tradition for the Saint John’s Ambulance Brigade to run through the corridors with their CPR dummies slung over their shoulders and shouting that line while carrying them from the storeroom to their assigned classroom the day before the fair — especially in front of the secondary one classrooms — both to amuse and to serve as advertisement.

Their advertising worked. I signed up, and for the next four years, I got the honour of being one of the corpse carriers and the leading corpse bearer — the guy in front that carries the big four-bodies-in-one dummy — in the last two.

In fact, the original corpse-carrying student that I first saw became my best friend.

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Can’t Wait Until End Of Period

, , , , | Learning | January 30, 2019

(Our English teacher told us rules at the start of the year that he expected to be followed, one of which was that he’d never give us permission to go to the toilets during class. Ever.)

Teacher: “There’s no reason any of you can’t go before the lesson or hold on for an hour.”

(One day I start getting the horrible cramps that mean I’m getting my period and I HAVE to leave the lesson to go put a pad on pretty much ASAP, else I’ll make a mess. I’m fourteen and have very heavy, painful periods. So, I stick my hand up and say I have to go to the toilets RIGHT NOW.)

Teacher: “And why should I just break the rules for you? Hmm? Just hold on”

Me: “Sir, I can’t. It’s a ‘women’s-issues’ thing. It’ll only take a few minutes to sort.”

Teacher: “Periods? No. No, you’ll just have to hold it in like an adult.”

Me: “But—“

Teacher: “But NOTHING! Grow up! Just hold it in for ten minutes till the end of this lesson! You should have more control!”

(I ended up actually just getting up and leaving the room with a sanitary towel out of my bag clasped in my hand and my teacher yelling at me to “GET BACK IN HERE.” I still wasn’t fast enough to avoid a stain on my skirt, so I got one of the other teachers to send me home to change clothes after. My parents have complained about our English teacher now, but nothing seems to be happening because the school has said that he was right and that I should have just waited the ten minutes, and that young girls don’t have heavy periods.)

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