i failed the first quarter of a class in middle school, so I made a fake report card. i did this every quarter that year. i forgot that they mail home the end-of-year cards, and my mom got it before I could intercept with my fake. She was PISSED – at the school for their error. the teacher also retired that year and had already thrown out his records, so they had to take my mother’s “proof” (the fake ones i made throughout the year) and “correct” the “mistake.” i’ve never told her the truth
I love how OP fucked up so hard that their attempts to fix it should have led to the ass-whooping of a lifetime, but, through an entire SERIES of ridiculous circumstances and UNBELIEVEABLE LUCK, it all worked out better than expected.
OP is a fucking protag in a kids’ show, what in the fuck.
Anyway someone just called the store and asked “is this the Krusty Krab” and I of course said “no this is Patrick” because they were maybe ten years old and I heard like 5 kids start laughing like they were going to pass out. The one on the phone told me “you really know your cartoons!” And hung up
last week I realized I was on the wrong bus. I called up to the driver to be sure and he said yup and I said I’d just ride the route all the way back (takes about 25 mins) and wait for the right one.
UNBEKNOWN TO ME he radio’d the driver of the right bus to find out where on the route they were and he pulled off at a stop and called back to me
“get off here, your bus is about to be at this stop.”
So I got out, and in a moment, my bus pulled up, and the driver was like “got on the wrong bus, huh?”
Honestly it almost made me cry. Two people took the time to make my day a lot easier, and it made a huge difference.
who wants to hear the story about how a girl in my spanish 2 class fought back against the horrible spanish teacher and won
if this gets 2 notes i will tell it
one note is good enough for me.
so there’s this girl in my spanish 2 class. we’ll call her kayla.
kayla is a sophomore. she is funny and outspoken and a little crazy. the main thing to remember about kayla is that she will stand up for herself when needed. and that’s why something happened with her and my spanish teacher.
we’ll call my teacher miss irving. miss irving has been teaching spanish for 30 years. she’s a little forceful, hates technology, and hates when people don’t just listen to her without questioning it.
it began when kayla entered class late near the beginning of the school year. “sorry, ma’am,” she said to miss irving. “i was at the counselor’s.”
miss irving looked up at kayla and asked for a pass. kayla didn’t have one, but she said that miss irving would be able to call the counselor and the counselor would verify her visit. miss irving refused to do so and gave her detention on the spot. kayla started trying to justify her own actions, and she received yet another detention.
this marked the beginning of a long, long feud. every time kayla did something, miss irving would reprimand her for it. kayla put on chapstick or began to eat in class and miss irving began to yell. kayla read a paragraph slower than the rest of us and miss irving would snap at her. slowly, kayla began to get fed up.
the last straw for her was when she asked miss irving to go to the counselor during class, and it changed everything.
“miss irving? i have an appointment with the counselor down the hall. may i go?”
“obviously not,” my teacher snapped back. “you can’t leave in the middle of the class.”
“but i need to see her, i have an appointme-“
“i don’t care. you’re going to translate that paragraph-“
“ma’am, i already translated it-“
“well, then i’ll give you more work to do-“
“no.”
at that word, all of the heads in the clasroom turned. it’s an unspoken rule that you don’t say no to miss irving. but kayla had fire in her voice, and was now standing up and glaring at the teacher.
“excuse me?” miss irving responded, and kayla went off.
“no matter what i do, you get on to me about it. i have issues that i need to take care of that you refuse to understand. you’re a teacher. you’re supposed to care about us. it’s your job! listen to me carefully: i. have. mental. health. problems. and there are times i need to eat in class or i need to go to the counselor’s office because of it, so could you just get off of my ass about it and try to understand?”
miss irving turned beet red and sent her to the principal’s office.
what followed was a battle between the two. miss irving kept emailing kayla’s parents, but kayla’s parents took their daughter’s side. then my teacher emailed kayla’s other teachers and asked them to take her side, but the other teachers said they didn’t ever have problems with kayla.
kayla went to talk to the principal about the situation and told her what was going on. the principal talked to miss irving, and miss irving lost her teacher of the year award for that year. she also received a strike on her teaching record for refusing to respect a student’s mental health protocol. and kayla won.
miss irving still teaches our class and we still have kayla with us. now, miss irving doesn’t hide her hatred for kayla at all. she expresses it fully to her other classes. and most of those other classes hate her as well.
but my class and i love kayla. because kayla has a newfound power, and she doesn’t take it for granted. instead, she uses it to help us.
and this matters so much to me because, one day, she helped me.
i have generalized anxiety disorder. one of the methods i can use to calm myself down is by doodling, and doodling also helps me listen more closely to the teacher’s lesson. so i started doodling on the edges of my papers in spanish a lot, especially when we started having tests every class period and it became very anxiety-inducing for me.
miss irving started taking points off for every doodle i made. and i mean A LOT of points. i drew an eye in the corner of a worksheet once and i got an 80 instead of a 100. when i tried to explain that it was for my anxiety, she didn’t care. so now i had even more anxiety because i couldn’t reduce my anxiety.
one day, miss irving was lecturing and i was doodling, when she started to yell at me for it.
i can’t remember a lot about what happened because at that moment i went into a full blown panic attack. but what i do remember is kayla standing up and yelling at her.
“what are you doing? stop! she’s obviously having a panic attack!”
she came over to my desk and led me through breathing exercises. calmed me down. told me my doodle of half a face looked really good, asked me how long i’d been taking art and about my disorder. the entire class was silent, watching, and miss irving was fuming.
when i was calm enough to, i thanked kayla, and she squeezed my hand in a silent alliance.
then miss irving walked back to the whiteboard and never said anything about my doodles again.
the moral of the story? just because a teacher or principal or parent is older than you doesn’t mean they deserve to be obeyed no matter what. if what your “elders” say to you or do to you belittles you, tears you down, or keeps you from being able to get help or be a better person, they are not doing their job, and you can stand up for yourself and others.
don’t be afraid to question the authority just because they say they shouldn’t be questioned.
This story was different actually??? And even better???
The girl, Brooklyn Andracke, used to wave at the truck every thursday and the trashman waved her back. It was a very important to her to do it every week.
It was HER birthday, and she decided that she wanted to share her birthday cake with the trashman. She also wanted to meet her hero, whose name is Delvar Dopson.
The girl’s mother thanked Delvar for his work and explained to him how important it is for Brooklyn to wave at him every thursday.
He was pretty surprised but he admitted that every time he drove near the house he hoped that the girl would wave at him.
That’s not the end of the story though. Next week Delvar had a surprise for the little girl.
He brought her a bunch of amazing birthday gifts!
They both got quite popular, and Delvar is getting a lot of thank you messages from trashmen from all over the world for representing them in such a good way.
So, after thinking about this over night, I’ve decided to share something that happened at the WORLD SCIENCE FESTIVAL yesterday afternoon in NYC that changed me. Or rather made me step into who I am in a larger way.
As some on my feed have seen, I was live-feeding the beginning of the panel discussion on FB. That panel was made up of some of the greatest and most famous minds in the world in Inflationary Cosmology, String Theory, Cosmology and Physics based Philosophy. The panel was made up of 5 men and 1 woman. And the moderator was a science writer and journalist for The New Yorker.
In the first hour of the panel discussion you can see clearly, if watching the video, that Veronika Hubeny, the only woman on the panel is barely given any opportunity to speak. And the Moderator, Jim Holt even acknowledges this.
In the last 20-30 minutes of the 90 minute discussion Jim Holt finally pushes the conversation to Hubeny’s field of expertise, string theory, and this is what ensued:
He asked her to describe her two theories of string theory that seem to contradict one another.
And THEN, without letting her answer, proceeded to answer for her and describe HER theories in detail without letting her speak for herself.
We could clearly see that she was trying to speak up. But he continued to talk over her and dominate the space for several minutes.
I should say that this panel was taking place in a large auditorium as it is an extremely high-profile and always sold-out event. And the panel discussion was being live-streamed across the world and they say that millions of people watch these videos after they are made public. (Which they already are).
So at this point, after seeing very clearly that she was not going to be given space to speak and in fact having her own theories described to the audience by the moderator, I am in full outrage. My body is actually beginning to shake. The sexism is beyond blatant. It is happening on stage and NO ONE, not a single other physicist or panelist is stepping in to say anything about it. And I can hear other audience members around me, both men and women becoming more and more agitated with what is happening. Jim Holt, even at one point, asks Veronica a question and she laughs because he has been answering his own questions about her work…and he makes fun of her for ‘giggling’.
So at some point while he is Still talking about Her theories, I just can’t handle it any longer.
With my hands shaking,
I finally say from my seat in the 2nd row of the audience, as clearly, directly and loudly as possible;
“Let. Her. Speak. Please!”
The moderator stops.
They all stop.
The auditorium drops into silence.
You could hear a pin drop.
And then the audience explodes with applause and screams.
Jim Holt eventually sat back, only after saying I was heckling him And he let her speak. And of course, she was brilliant.
———————–
So, the panel discussion ends.
My hands are still shaking. I’m still upset by the incredible sexism that has been demonstrated this afternoon. But I also realize that I just spoke up in an auditorium full of people that are listening to people that are considered gods in the international science world. I was just overwhelmed by it all
We get up to leave.
And then it happens.
Person after person come up to me. Both men and women.
The first woman, right behind me, reaches over and embraces me and says, “Oh my god. what you said was the most important thing that was said all day. Thank you. Thank you.”
And then people start filing out of their aisles and wind their way over to me:
“Was that you? Thank you so much for speaking up. Thank you.”
“Was that you? Oh god, what he was doing was horrific. Thank you. I wanted to do something but didn’t know how”
“Was that you? I wish I had the courage to say something, thank you! Thank you so much”
“Was that you? You said what everyone here was thinking. Look I had even been writing in my notebook what you eventually said (shows me his notebook with ‘let her speak’ written over and over.) But you said it. You said it. Thank you.”
“Was that you? Thank you! I felt so powerless to do anything.”
And on.
So we were all thinking this.
—- So I walked out. And my friend who was sitting about 8 rows behind me, came up to me with a huge grin and said “That was you, wasn’t it? Of course it was. YES!!!!! I will be telling this story for years.”
And the whole time, my hands are still shaking. And I’m felling light-headed. And I just want to scream out into the lobby “WHY IS THIS SEXISM STILL HAPPENING? WHY, does someone like me, with No status in that room, have to be so extraordinarily bold and speak up? And why was it so frightening to do so?”
And I’m thinking. “God, please god let this be an opening for those that were here today and the tens of thousands that watched the live-streaming of the panel yesterday and the hundreds of thousands that will watch the video this year- to speak up when we see this happening. And please let me not be afraid to do this again …and again …and again” Because it was scary.
Please keep giving me courage.
Reblog to keep the count going!
Yours aren’t the only hands that shake when you speak up…please. Speak up.
Mathee's Blog 