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Junior year of high school I took Honors calculus with Mr. Fakeri, failing to recognize that I knew absolutely nothing about calculus, and I had been sliding through math classes pretty much by the Grace of God. Fakeri had a heavy accent and I had no drive so when I got a D in the class I was broken hearted BUT I got a free pass because my parents are extremely bad at math, had it been any other class they would have locked me in the basement with very little food until my grades sky rocketed to the point of astronomical.
My best friend from highschool (who would be super pissed if I showed her photo), me and Nicc. Physics.
Senior year I had to retake calculus with a teacher whose head looked like it was filled with helium. His body and head size were so disproportionate I couldn’t really understand how he stood up on his own (I am going to call him Mr. Booblehead because I have no idea what his real name was). The class was majorly boring and I had a mad case of Senioritis by October.
My family (aka my parents) planned for us to travel to Europe over the break and into the beginning of the next semester. Mom had me go to every teacher and explain that I would not be in school then get any and all course work my teachers deemed pertinent. If you have never done this before and even if you have it is better to go back after the fact rather than prior to, teachers plan to be on concept Q by the time you return when in reality they are still on M.
I went to Mr. Booblehead and explained the situation. He looked at his planner, then at my grade (a high B); he huffed and puffed then closed his books. He looked me straight in the eye and said “I don’t like it.”
“I’m sorry sir?” For a moment I thought he might be crazy.
“I don’t like it. I think you shouldn’t go.”
WTF?
“We will be starting a new lesson plan, and I won’t know if you understand the concepts.”
“I will catch up.”
“I don’t think you should go.” And then I knew he was crazy.
“I am about 100% sure that my family is not canceling their trip so I “stay on track” and I know for sure they will not be leaving without me. You can either assign me work to do, or I can have my Mom come talk to you. Either way, we are still going.”
Mr. Booblehead did not like my response. As if he could dictate what my family did or did not do, as a Senior year Calculus teacher with an inflated head and ego. He ended up giving me four chapters worth of work and by the time I came back he wasn’t halfway through the first one, which made the burn of Senioritis that much stronger.
-ducksoup- 