I studied medical laboratory science in college. As we were studying hormones, we came to hCG, which is the hormone tested for on a pregnancy test. The professor was explaining how, at the very end of a pregnancy, hCG levels can drop off, yielding a negative pregnancy test on an obviously pregnant patient.

Then, he added this gem: “You can really freak out nervous medical interns by calling them up and telling them the pregnancy test on a very pregnant woman is negative. I’m not saying I’ve done it, but I’m not saying I haven’t.”

(I have a classic case of “can’t get up” this morning. I wake to my alarm only to turn it back off and fall right back asleep. I end up missing the first period but arrange to arrive in time to get into the second without problems, except I notice something strange as I get closer to the school. It’s the pause where everyone should be between classes, but no one is outside and there’s a lot of noise coming from inside. I check my usual doors — mostly glass — and it’s locked with big chains around the inner handle. I see no one there. I go around and find all the doors are locked but one, where a teacher is holding the door in front of a mass of students of every level. Since I usually get along well with this teacher, I knock. He barely cracks it open to shoot to me:)

Teacher: “You wanted to get out, so stay out! See if I care! You deal with the consequences!”

(And he slams the door shut again. I catch a friend’s eyes behind the teacher, and I make a gesture that says, “What the f*** is going on?!” to which she shakes her head and returns the confused gesture. Since no one will let me in, I go back home and call my mother to let her know the story. I include my oversleep as I know I will not be in trouble — it is not a habit of mine, just a genuine accident — and tell her that I have no idea what is going on, and that I was not allowed into the school. At the end of the day, Mom tells me about a phone call she got from the school while she was at work. I’m not sure who it was who called her, but their conversation went like this:)

School Person: “Madame [Mom]? I’m calling you about your daughter, [My Name].”

Mom: “Is it about what happened this morning?”

School Person: “Oh. So, you are aware of what she’s done?”

Mom: “Yes and no. What happened exactly?”

School Person: “Your daughter took part in an illegal student protest, inciting violence and delinquency! Do you have any idea what she’s facing? Unless you both collaborate with us and comply with the consequences we put in place, we’ll have to report her to the police. Do you want us to call the cops on you?”

Mom: “Excuse me?!”

School Person: *detaching every syllable* “Do. You. Want. Us. To. Call. The. Cops. On. You. Two?”

Mom: “You actually reached [Mom’s Full Name] at [Police Headquarters] in charge of underaged, morality, street gang, and drugs and narcotics-related crime. How can I help you?”

School Person: *deflating* “Oh, you… You are a police officer?”

Mom: “No, I’m a civilian but I’m in charge of the office of the commanding officer and all the guys of this section. I’m surrounded by cops. So, how may I help you?”

School Person: *realising they won’t scare or bully Mom into anything* “Huh… Well, you know, your daughter did something really bad here…”

Mom: “Stop right there.”

School Person: “Yes?”

Mom: “My daughter had no part in this mess you are talking about. She was just late, arriving for second period, and found herself locked out and dumbfounded. She went back home since no one would let her in. What did you expect her to do, hang by the door the whole day?”

School Person: *jumping at the opportunity* “Oh, she was late? Well, she should still be punished for skipping first period. “

Mom: “No, she was not skipping.”

School Person: “She… was not?”

Mom: “No, she was not. If I find out you’ve tried to put her in trouble, despite the fact that you guys f***ed up, I’ll come down to see you personally.”

(The next day, my friend told me some people tried to organise a protest, because there was talk about closing our school. Some of the older students actually managed to organize and plan one before, but all legally. It turned out that the school employee had orders to lock all the students in and then tried to excessively punish the students — involving their families and the law — who slipped out, took part in the protest or its “organisation,” or took the opportunity to make trouble in general. I just got innocently caught in the middle of this, without ever being aware of anything. Thanks, Mom, for fighting for my innocence.)

(I am a teacher’s assistant at an elementary school. I am eating lunch in my classroom, which is empty except for one of my coworkers and a student she’s having lunch with. I’m not paying attention to their conversation, until I hear this part.)

Coworker: “How do you know I’m not a spy from the future?”

Student: “Um… Ms. [My Name], help me!”

Me: “How do you know I’m not a spy, too?”

(The student stares at us in horror.)

Coworker: “Why do you think we wear all-black uniforms?”

Me: “We’re all time-traveling spies.”

Student: “You’re fibbing.”

Me: “All right, Ms. [Coworker], she has to be eliminated.”

Coworker: “You know what that means, right?”

Student: “…”

Me: “You have to go live in Canada.”

Student: *tearfully* “I hate Canada.”

(I am at a teacher’s college in a Classroom Management course.)

Professor: “This is a list of the 40 most common ways students act out or can be disruptive in class. There is one technique you can use to prevent 80% of these. Can anyone guess what that is?”

(I’m seated in the front row, and this comment comes out louder than I intended.)

Me: “Murder.”

Professor: “What?! No! Not murder! Engagement! Engage a student’s attention and they’ll be too occupied to misbehave!”

(She continues the lesson for two more minutes or so before suddenly saying:)

Professor: “How does murder only solve 80% of that list, anyway? What about the other 20%?”

I was 11 and had just started school for the first time, as I’d been home-educated since I was four. I hadn’t had a structured education system, so school rules and unwritten codes were very new to me. It didn’t help that, although I wasn’t diagnosed at the time, I am autistic and struggle to pick up social cues.

On my second day of school, we had a class called Personal and Social Education, which was basically life skills and sex ed, and we had guest speakers from the police, fire department, etc., to teach us how to handle life.

This particular day, the first class of the year, the teacher was explaining to everyone that if they didn’t attend school, their parents were breaking the law. Naturally, this confused me; my mother had been the media coordinator for an alternative education group we belonged to for years, so I was quite well-informed on the legality of home education. I didn’t grasp that the teacher was trying to tell us about the consequences of skipping out on classes, because I didn’t know that was something people did. I just knew that not attending school was perfectly legitimate, and the teacher clearly hadn’t heard about home education, so I should be helpful and explain.

Naive little me put my hand up and said my mother had educated me at home. Before I could get any further in my explanation, this teacher gave me the most disgusted look and announced loudly, “Well, your mother should have gone to prison!“

I was thoroughly humiliated. I put my hand down and stared at the desk, and spent the rest of the class trying not to cry, because the teacher was Authority and she’d just told me I was wrong and that my mum had broken the law. I was devastated and, being as naive as I was, I was convinced I’d just got my mum into serious legal trouble.

When my mum picked me up after school, she could tell I was upset. It didn’t take much prodding before I broke down sobbing. I told her what had happened and that I didn’t want her to go to prison.

She came into school the next morning to speak to the principal, and while I never knew exactly what was said in that meeting, I never saw that teacher around the school again.

But I learned a very important rule that day; I was never to say something that implied a teacher might be wrong, or challenge something I knew was wrong, because that was Not What We Do At School. It pretty much destroyed my confidence and signposted to everyone in my class that I was an easy target.

Just hear a kid out when they’re trying to make a point, teachers.