BigFatRobot

99% of the time I adored teaching. There was such a buzz when your students got it, and used the language you had taught them with confidence and zeal.

Everybody who knows me would attest to my calmness and joy of both life and people. However, teaching some of nature’s horrors made me wish ill of some. Yep, there were a very few students that I wished would burn in the everlasting flames of Hell. Here they are for your reading pleasure…

(The names have been changed, let’s just call each one “brat”, and number them sequentially.)

Brat #1
The following was a typical list of my commands to Brat #1, which I had to constantly roar over his unrelenting shrieks:

“Brat #1, stop hitting him”, “Brat #1, put that down”, “Brat #1, be quiet”, “Brat #1, take that out of your mouth”, “Brat #1, get your head out of her skirt”,“Brat #1, staplers are not rayguns”, “Brat #1, stop bleeding”

Brat #2
Not so much an individual, but a whole class! The following is the beginning of my handover notes, the joyous day that I was finally rid of them:

“This class made my decision to resign a very, very easy one. It is populated by the most malicious children I have come across. One, you will soon discover, is a mountain-sized, hairy knuckled Neanderthal, more about “her” later…
Do not employ an ounce of “genki-ness” with this mob, stride into that classroom full of vengeful fury and get medieval on their asses!”

Brat #3
The formerly mentioned mountain-sized, hairy knuckled Neanderthal rates her own special mention. She was, according to her birth certificate, an 11 year old girl. Personally I thought she was a Russian sailor that went AWOL and, in order to evade authorities, decided to take on the guise of an 11 year old Japanese girl. Am I the only one who knows the truth? According to everybody the poor girl hated everything intensely, and every thursday at 4pm, for 1 hour, I was her everything.

Brat #4
Again I will flout the grammatical rule of singularity and combine a plurality of little shits into one pooey mess, now known as Brat #4. The following are my handover notes for the next suffering teacher.

“Out of the 100 or so students I teach, I only dislike 3 of the them. These two cackling little witches are 2nd and 3rd on the list (this was, of course, before the hells of brat #2 and #3 entered my miserable existence.) If this was Lord of the Flies, I would have been dinner long ago. However, I have fought a bitter and prolonged battle with them, and in the last month I have experienced a detente of sorts. They are North Korea, and I am South Korea – I suspect they have nuclear capabilities . . .”

Oh, the joy of teaching children.