The Daily Post’s Topic #38: Describe the worst teacher you ever had.
I barely noticed this prompt when it was released a few days ago, but I actually woke up thinking about it this morning after a not-so-fun dream last night. Given my self-imposed charge to try and write (even briefly) on something of a regular basis, I think I’ll let this one out. It’s slim pickings right now, as I don’t yet have permission to talk about this one spectacular thing that I am going to write the shit out of when granted and I definitely don’t feel like tackling the “Are you afraid of death” prompt that nearly gave me hives when I read it. Spoiler alert – that right there is pretty much the answer to the question.
Anyway, bad teachers. You know, I really haven’t had that many awful teachers in my life. I used to blame her, but now I’m not so sure that it was Ms. Picard’s fault that I exited fourth grade not in possession of the long division skills that my classmates had. To this day, I have no idea how to do long division, but I think maybe that’s more on me than her. My AP Biology teacher in high school, Mr. – uh… Quissell? Yeah, I think that’s right. He was kind of awful and boring and moleman-ish, but that class afforded me the opportunity to skip on a regular basis and go out to breakfast and play Uno with my dear sweet boyfriend. I was such a good kid that that is truly what we did when we skipped school – we played Uno.
If you had asked me this question last night any time between 7:00-8:45 p.m. I would have said that the masochistic harpies who teach Bikram yoga at the studio I’ve started going to are the worst ever. Worst teachers, worst people, just the worst. That’s because I hate the classes when I’m there but have found that I leave completely energized and extrasuper bendy. It’s a delicate love/hate thing I have going on with them.
But… The reason I woke up thinking about this prompt is because of a special guest appearance that a past “teacher” made in a dream last night. I have mentioned him a handful of times here and I plan on making this the last. A year ago, it would have been unfathomable to me that I could say this now, but as the whole experience becomes an ever smaller pin prick in the rear view, I have no need or desire to revisit it. If ever there is a doubt about that, all I will have to do is remember something he said to me during what turned out to be one of our last conversations ever. And man, did he choose to really go out with a bang.
“Everything is a test, Jennifer. I am constantly testing you. I am the teacher and I am telling you that you are failing.”
That’s one failure I’m content to accept.