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skippyin · 7 years

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school story plz

WELL ALRIGHT THEN BUCKLE UP KIDDOS BECAUSE WE’RE GOING BACK TO SKIPPY’S SCHOOL DAYS. Now I’m not gonna drop any names but holy shit my early elementary school years were a trash fire.

I have Aspburgers (I’m high-functioning though so it’s hard to tell), my brother has ADHD, my Mom has Dyslexia, and my Dad also has Aspburgers same as me. Both my parents went through hell when they were children, the school systems were brutal back then. They didn’t want to same for their children, so they got my brother and I 504′s and put us into Catholic Schools because we are Catholic and they wanted us to have that kind of education. The first school we chose, however, would be a den of nightmares. I’ll just use the initials: SH when referring to the school. The following is my account of what I went through in that school.

1st Grade: A good start! The teacher started out kinda mean but then shaped up. Treated me nicer when she realized I needed extra help and gave me that extra help. More or less went smoothly.

2nd Grade: Shit starts to get fucky. This teacher: Mrs. B(itch) was very stuck up. She was one of the members of Principle S(kanky Panky)’s little friend group. She greatly disliked me and my friend, Katie, not only because we both had learning disabilities, but also because we were both artists. The class was required to cover our textbooks to protect them from damage, but instead of using the stretchy cloth textbook covers like everybody else; Katie and I would use blank brown wrapping paper so we could draw on the covers, add stickers, etc. It was fun for us to personalize our textbooks, but Mrs. B HATED that we liked to draw because she thought it was a waste of our time and hers. It wasn’t easy, but I managed to troop through.

3rd Grade: Nice teacher. She liked me, and I had no problem with her. Though she would yell at the class often because a lot of the kids in the class were very misbehaved. This year went by without incident.

4th Grade: Another good year! (Unfortunately, my last at this school.) This teacher was my favorite and she was more than willing to give me a hand. The worst of my problems that year was the other kids in my class who liked to pick on me, but I was able to get through.

5th Grade: The beginning of The End. The gateway to True Hell. Which is ironic considering my teacher this year was a nun. Sister H(ell) was very old and therefore very old fashioned. She liked to play favorites, and usually preferred the boys over the girls for some reason, despite the fact that a good 75% of the boys in my class were assholes (don’t get me wrong though, a percentage of the girls in my class were bitches too). She gave me a hard time for my lacking math skills. Funny thing is, she had no idea how to teach the mathematical course material and told the parents on parent-teacher night that she was basically just winging it. She didn’t like me, or anything I did. It became a habit of mine to hum the Darth Vader Theme quietly to myself whenever I saw her walking by.

It was at this point my mother started complaining to Principle S that my education was starting to get hindered. At the same time, my brother was in 2nd grade and had gotten saddled with a different 2nd-grade teacher than me. This woman was ALSO in the principle’s friend group and was an even bigger problem then Mrs. B. She was just out and out mean to my brother and it was starting to become a problem. My mom filed these complaints and brought up our legal documentation. Principle S acknowledged that they were doing everything the documents told them what they had to do, but that she would have a personal word with our teachers to try to solve the problem.

A month passed. Nothing Changed.

Shit was still fucky, the Principle kept smiling and lying to her face, and my Mom decided that it was time to infiltrate. It was one of those kinds of situations where when peoples’ backs were turned, the staff was horrible. But when parents came over or people visiting from the school board: they were all suddenly super nice and acting on their best behavior. My Mom got a job at the school as the kindergarten teacher’s assistant in order to keep an eye on my brother and I and make sure we were being treated properly. The Principle and her friend group knew this was what she was doing and tried to keep her out of the loop as much as possible. Though her presence was very comforting to me, knowing she was so close by in this den of wolves.

(Side Story: Principle S is FUCKING Nuts.

While my Mom was working at the school she got into a friendly conversation with the Principle one day during lunch in the teacher’s lounge. She proceeded to tell my Mom a story of how she and her husband went to go visit her mother. Upon arriving at the elderly woman’s house, they found her on the floor and not moving. Now, any rational person would immediately call 911, right? Principle S didn’t. No, instead, her and her husband starting going around the presumably dead woman’s house and putting sticky notes with their names on all the fancy stuff they wanted. Turns out she wasn’t dead, just passed out. Upon realizing this, then they called 911. She laughed at it like it was a funny little story but my Mom just looked at her like she was crazy. And she was. There were many other stories like this, but that is the only one I know about.)

Nevertheless, the kindergarten classrooms were very out of the way from the rest of the school, so even though my Mom was present, they still pulled a lot of BS. When my 5th-grade year was finally over I was relieved, but boy oh boy was I jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire when I started--

6th Fucking Grade: What would be my last year at SH school. This year was my personal hell. THIS YEAR was when shit hit the fan. Ms. F(ucking Desperate For A Boyfriend) was the final member of the Principle’s friend group and was by far the worst in my opinion. Dear gosh this woman... Who let this woman near children... Where to begin, where to begin...

I guess I should start by saying she hated me. Just plain and simple. She hated me and anybody I associated with. She thought I was a Bad Kid. She thought I was a demon in disguise or some shit. That I was lying when I told my Mom about my hard time in school. How dare I get my Mom to “harras” her good friend Principle S with my disability papers. I’m just a lazy kid who doesn’t want to do any work so I’m giving myself an advantage over the other students who don’t have extra time on tests, or special seating, or get copies of notes from students who are doing good in school. How dare I get extra help that “I don’t need”. It was “unfair”.

So she proceeded to make every day of my 6th-grade life an uphill battle. And let me tell you it was a battle an emotionally and mentally draining one.

Here is a list of incidents I remember:

One day when I was absent, she made my two best friends sit out in the hallway and told them they couldn’t come back inside until they wrote a list of all the bad things I had done. They couldn’t do this, of course, because I had done nothing wrong, and were forced to stay out there until lunch time.

Complained every time I came to get my photocopied notes from her (only teachers had access to the copy machines). Would tell me every day that I didn’t deserve notes taken by a better student.

Never helped me whenever I would get bullied by other students.

Whenever I gave a wrong answer in class, would make it out as if it was the dumbest thing she had ever heard.

Kicked me out of my group who I was teamed up with on an important History Project. Said I was kicked out because I wasn’t “doing the work” and therefore my punishment was to do the whole thing by myself. I was absent for two days because I was sick with a fever, and I had told one of my teammates over the phone that I had my part of the work ready and I’d give it to them when I came back. Nope, doesn’t matter, what Ms. F says goes. I got saddled with four people’s weight in project work, along with my regular homework. My Parents helped me out a great deal because it was complete bullshit.

Went off on me when she found out I had started a trend among my classmates. Of drawing pictures of bad/dumb/silly things happening to her on sticky notes and trading them like trading cards. We all hated her.

Things really got set in motion during a private before-school meeting between Ms. F and my parents. Ms. F, my Dad, and my Mom, all sat down in our classroom and started to discuss what the fuck was going on. I was constantly asking my parents to keep me home from school, my grades were slipping, I was constantly stressed, and was showing the bad habit of plucking out my eyelashes. They wanted to know what was going on and they wanted it to be fixed. Ms. F proceeded to tell them the following:

A) I wasn’t disabled, I was only faking it because I am a lazy horrible brat who doesn’t want to do work and only wants extra help to give me an advantage.

B) If I really am disabled then I should be sent to a mental hospital/children’s special needs school for the severely disabled. I don’t belong in their school, I had no place in her classroom. I had to go where all the other “crazy children” were sent.

C) I am a manipulator and a liar playing everyone for fools, but NOT HER. No sir she doesn’t fall for my tricks.

Now.

My Dad is a slow to anger man. He is usually pretty laid back, and fun loving, and cool. But when he gets mad, watch out. Meanwhile, my Mom kind of is the opposite. She is a very passionate woman who likes to yell a lot whenever she feels there is some sort of injustice. Small but Loud. Like Anger from Inside Out. I’ve seen her mad, but when she’s Angry her rage burns brighter than the light of 1000 suns. The only thing keeping the two of them from beating the ever-loving crap out of Ms. F right then and there was the knowledge that they’d probably get pressed on Assault charges.

No, instead, they advanced on her. Forced her to back up against the wall. My dad, tall and looming behind my mom fixing this woman with a death glare. My mom pointing a finger at her face and said “I swear to God in heaven above if I ever catch you off school property... I don’t care if we’re in the grocery store, I don’t care if we’re in church, I don’t care if it’s years and years from now and I’m an old woman. I will punch you dead in the face for talking about my daughter that way and putting her through this. That is a promise, you Bitch. So you better be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life and praying and you don’t see me there.”

It was at this time school was starting, so my class came in to see my parents staring down our teacher. I was oblivious to the tense air in the room and just waved at them saying “Hi Mom and Dad!! :D”

Meeting over.

My Mom is the kind of person who keeps her promises. She once knocked out a guy with a single punch. And another time my Mom broke some chick’s jaw when she tried to mug my Aunt. She knows how to throw a good punch.

But unfortunately, Ms. F was undeterred by my parents legal and physical threats. And only made things harder.

The final straw happened when we were 3/4ths through the year. The home stretch. I wanted to try my hand at writing poetry. We had some free time, so I got out a sheet of paper and got to work. Not too long after, the group of boys who liked to pick on me came over and tried to read it. I knew it would only give them cannon fodder to use against me so I tried to keep it away from them. They were persistent so I decided to try to use my pen to fend them off. One of the nice boys, Anthony, came over to try to break up the commotion. I accidentally wound up getting pen ink on his uniform shirt. I apologized, knowing he had only been trying to help and he told me not to sweat it and that his mom would just wash the shirt. The situation is over, right? Wrong.

Not ten minutes later, Ms. F slams her hands on her desk and screams my name. I snap to attention because “Oh no what’s happening?” She starts yelling at me because I got ink on Anthony’s shirt. How dare I do something so atrocious. Now Anthony’s poor mother has to slave away at the washing machine tonight to try to clean the ink off of his expensive uniform shirt. It doesn’t matter that I already apologized, it doesn’t matter that Anthony forgave me, I should feel bad about doing this horrible thing. She basically proceeded to humiliate me in front of the entire class and I was mortified.

I went, hid in the girl’s bathroom, and cried like Hermione Granger did in Sorcerer's Stone. After I calmed down, I refused to head back to class, too afraid getting yelled at again. Usually, if a student spends too long in the bathroom, another student is sent to go check on them to make sure they’re okay and bring them back to class. I decided to wait for someone to come for me. So I sat, and I waited. And waited. And waited. Nobody came to get me. My Mom wasn’t notified of the incident either, so she was waiting for me outside. It wasn’t until hours later when one of my friends came up to her after clubs were over and told her what happened that she found out. That I’ve been in the bathroom all day, and Ms. F didn’t want anybody to go get me. My Mom rushed into the school, ran into the bathroom, and embraced me. She was so worried because I was a child, left alone, unsupervised. This is how kids get kidnapped and go missing. This is how kids’ faces get plastered on missing posters and billboards. I was left alone in that bathroom with nothing but my own self-loathing all day, anything could have happened to me. We marched out of the bathroom, down to the Principle’s office, and my Mom called Principle S a sick pig bitch, threatening to sue her for every penny she had.

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. My Mom was outraged by the school and its horrible treatment of myself, my brother, and any other disabled child that happened to come up to their doorstep. She was sick and disgusted and DONE. I remember vividly when we got back in the car, the first thing she did was call my Aunt on her cell phone and said: “I want a lawyer.” Unfortunately, we never did take them to court on this, I can’t remember the reason why. We’ve always been pretty financially tight, so I think it’s the fact that we just couldn’t afford a lawyer to do an all out lawsuit.

My Mom pulled me and my brother out of that school and sent us to a different Catholic School. This one was so much better, so much nicer, all the teachers loved us, the principal he was so great and nice, we made friends with tons of different kids. It was the exact opposite of what we went through in that hell hole.

And you know what? I’m not mad. I’m not bitter. And I still feel like I’ve won even though we didn’t get any sort of “revenge” on these people. Me living my life, being happy, and being with my loved ones is revenge enough. In the end, they don’t matter to me. But at the same time, they did wind up teaching me something. They showed me the kind of person I didn’t want to be. They were bitter, revenge seeking, condescending, lazy, and prideful. They got enjoyment out of making me and anybody they deemed “unfit” miserable. I don’t want to be like them. I could have used their real names, I could put their addresses and phone numbers out there for everybody to see, with a call to action to “teach them a lesson” in order to form a justice-seeking mob mentality amongst anybody who reads this story. But I’m not. Because I don’t want to be seen as a victim. What I experienced was horrible, yes, but I don’t feel the need to cry out for justice. Because I’m satisfied with living my life and winning against them by leaving them behind, by not letting what they did to me haunt me every day of my life. And you know what? I’m fine.

I got two little sisters who I love very much.

I met some of my very best friends still to this day in high school.

I got my Associate's degree with honors.

I’m currently studying for my Bachelor's and eventually will get a job doing something I love.

I play games with my friends.

I do what I love every day.

I spend every day with my family who loves and supports me and encourages me.

I have so many blessings, I’m not going to let those years ruin my life when my life so good.

I guess the thing to take away from my story is, don’t dwell on things. You don’t have to nessicarily forgive them for what they did, but which sounds better to you: Dwelling on memories that make you feel like shit for the rest of your life or surrounding yourself with the people you love and making new better happier memories? I rolled with the punches that were thrown at me and came out stronger for it.

So while they sit there, stewing in their own bitterness, in a teaching job they hate but only took because they want the summers off. I’m off in the world, experiencing new things, and Living.

I am very happy. ^u^

Thanks for reading.

#personal #long post #like really long geez #sorry about the text wall guys lol #story #personal story #aspburgers #adhd #bad teachers #past #Anonymous

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