Teachers - Beings from Another Dimension - Part 1

 Hello! I got the idea for this post while studying chemistry. I know, ‘focus on your studies, Aurora, not your blog’ but I promise I only thought about it for a second or two.

Anyhow, let’s talk about, drumroll, please…

TEACHERS!!!

I’ve spent most of my life surrounded by creatures that seem to know everything and almost seem like they aren’t from our dimension. I’ll start talking about teachers I’ve known since I was 2 years old till now, and I promise it will not be as boring as you think it is (it might be, if you think it’s boring please click off and go watch the Witcher, thank you).

Let’s start with the very first teacher I knew, I’ll call her Ms. Nadine. Oh, there is so much respect in my heart for her even till now, though I doubt she remembers me, I certainly do remember her. She was my teacher from when I was 2 till I was 6. Four years with her were definitely not enough. She was a ball of happiness, a charming ray of pure delight. Whenever she entered the classroom, everything else flew into the background and I could just focus on her. From my perspective back then, she was tall, willowy, and always dressed like she was going to an art exhibit.

She would let us paint with our fingers, scrawl down our ABCs on the blackboard, hit each other with chalks. One time she brought multiple sponges to the class, wet them, and told us to just have fun. No wonder I remember her until now. Even though it’s been more than 10 years, I hope she’s healthy and happy.

Another gem was Ms. Toothy. I’m not calling her this because I want to make fun of her, just because this is the one detail I remember about her. The other thing I remember was that she always wore a sari. She was our math teacher when I was 5 years old. Boy, was she scary! She was really old, walked using a cane, and had a temper worse than (whoever you think needs anger management ASAP). I don’t know why I remember her, but I had a few good memories. She used to let us play with that unit math toy. Something about sliding my one’s and two’s into the right slots and hearing the small clock clock sound made me happy.

Aside from that, I remember once I was very sick at school and my dad had to pick me up, so while I was sick, I was sitting in her class all alone (this was before I was her student, I was almost 4 at the time) and she was reading. I asked her what she was doing because I hadn’t seen anyone read anything before, apart from textbooks and that was my personal nightmare. I began to think she was torturing herself by reading Fun with Algebra willingly. But it was NOT fun with algebra; it was a book on herbal medicine. She asked me if I’d like to read too and gave me a book (it wasn’t on herbal medicine, don’t worry).

I’ve read over thousands of books since then, and just thinking about it, it was a glorious time spent with Ms. Toothy. Me, Goldilocks, Ms. Toothy, and that wretched herbal medicine book, all in one small musty room is a gem that I refuse to burn out of my memory. She inspired me to read for the very first time, not to study, but for the pure joy of being in another universe on an adventure. I owe it to her.

I heard Ms. Toothy died soon after I left the school, and was very sad for a while. Wherever you are in heaven, I hope you have your own greenhouse where you can grow your own medicinal herbs.

ENOUGH WITH THE SENTIMENT let’s talk about the VILLANS!!

There was one teacher who taught us in Grade 4 and 5. Ms. Sad AF. Yes you can guess her name, yes I don’t care, yes she can sue me.
‘But Aurora it’s been so many years, do you still dislike her?’ YES! YES, WITH ALL THE BURNING RAGE IN MY HEART I DESPISE HER AND I WISH THERE’S NEVER SOMEONE LIKE HER BORN ON THIS PLANET EVER AGAIN. Just thinking about her makes me feel like I’m cursed, Jesus Christ.

You can take a deep breath at this point and begin hearing about this maniac, racist, a psychopathic monster I’m going to talk about. Some people are bad teachers but good people. They just can’t keep their temper while teaching. But once you meet them outside of school, they’re sweethearts. Well, Ms. Sad AF was a bad teacher and a bad person. Did she care about others’ feelings? No. Did she care about considering doing something that others want? No. Did she want to make the earth a good place for its inhabitants, including her? ALSO, NO!

She didn’t just rip your heart out if you made a mistake, no, she would rip it out, chop it into pieces, feed it to the dogs, make them poop it out, and shove it. In. Your. Mouth.

You think I’m making her sound bad? No. Well, when grade 4 started we were all seated into places of our choosing, near our friends and Ms. Sad AF trotted in, bounced her curly wretched black hair behind her shoulders, and do you know what she said? ‘Get up, move your bags to where I tell you to. After my class, you can go back to your seats, but in my class, you sit only where I tell you to.’ That isn’t so bad, except one time, there was an incident. A horrible incident.

My friend Alice needed to go to the bathroom, and I could tell by the way she was squirming in her seat that she really needed to go. Now Ms. Sad AF was scary enough to make anyone piss themselves but brave little Alice held it in and stood up asking for permission. She was immediately refuted by ‘Do you think my class is a bathroom break?’ and she sat down. The next time she asked wasn’t so pretty. Ms. Sad AF made her stand in front of the class and continued teaching. Suddenly, Alice started crying, and with the first sob came the pool of fluid gathering at her feet. Yes ew, BUT IF IT WERE ME I WOULD’VE DONE THE SAME.

Another time she made me and my friend Saoirse stand up and reveal if we were taking tuitions for science and social studies. Saoirse was not, but I was, along with another culprit who was still sitting. She was actually my best friend since we were 2 years old but we had drifted apart till grade 5. We were still friends though, so I thought she would stand up with me, for me, but she didn’t. But me being the good friend I was (and still am) I didn’t rat her out. (though I wish I had, still do). Ms. Sad AF proceeded to yell at us and sent us to the principals' office saying we had offended her and cried her fake little crocodile tears, and ba dum tss I landed in detention for three days.

Enough about Ms. Sad AF. Like her name, she was Sad AF and I hope she gets locked up in a cage so no one gets exposed to her miserable personality. But I also hope she stops torturing students so they won’t write blogs about her like I did.

This is Part 1 on the two blogs about teachers! I accidentally crossed the intended word limit, if I write more it’ll get boring. I hope you enjoyed reveling in my childhood happiness and adolescent misery. I’m already working on part two which (contains more teachers, more sentiments, more drama) I’ll immediately post after this, so stay tuned (and please don’t torture your students).

Adios!