People say I don't like my ****** teacher because I don't like ******.
That's not true. I don't like ******. But that's irrelevant.
I like my geography teacher even though I'm not brilliant at geography.
I like my maths teacher even though I'm not great at maths.
I like my sport teacher even though I suck at sport.
My ****** teacher said that since I'm acing year nine English I should at least be able to pass year eight ******.
That is not true. I am not some goody-two-shoes all-rounder freak student who's good at everything. I am just really good at English and really bad at everything else. And it its very hard to be good at something when your teacher makes you cry.
Some people say that if you're a good student it doesn't matter whether you like your teacher or not, and that if you're a bad student it doesn't matter how good your teacher is.
That is not true.
I suck at maths. But I'm improving. Slowly. But steadily. I credit my teacher to that.
I really suck at geography - maps are complete alien to me. I got a distinction in some national competition, and I credit my awesome teacher (and sheer luck) for that.
The fact remains that my ****** teacher is an unbipolar bipolar teacher. That's even worse than a grumpy teacher. Even worse than a I'm-trying-to-be-cool-but-failing-pathetically teacher. Even worse than fat teachers who wear too much make up and tell you to shut up and listen whilst they garbage on about stuff we know and they don't. Even worse than teachers that give out detentions and infringements and yell at you just for fun. And yes, all of these kinds of teachers wind up at my school.
Unbipolar bipolar teachers are teachers that are really fun and bubbly and energetic one day and then really crabby and grumpy the next day. The kind of teacher that encourages you one day and then chucks your work in the bin the next day. The kind of teacher that gives out house points and infringements in the same lesson to the same person. Yeah. That kind of teacher.
I really should say this to his face but the fact is I'm to chicken-shit to do it because I'm terrified he'll dock me off year nine English. If he docks me off year nine English I don't know what I'll do. Something really bad will happen to me and he'll live his life knowing he killed his student.
Just joking. How emo. I wish it could happen without me actually dying though.
I know I'm not a perfect student - I'm wild, rebellious, and disorganized to boot. I know that. And I am trying to improve - the last bit anyway. And I respect all teachers when I first meet them. But when they fail to respect me, yeah, I do lose respect for them. I bitch about them behind their backs. I badmouth them and post stuff about them on my blog for all my readers from America to Australia to Sri Lanka to read. Just like I do to any people who annoy me.
Writing, especially writing on the internet, gives you this power. Like, I don't care what you do to me but if you do anything I don't like it's gonna end up on the net. That's power you can't buy.
Of course, I only have a handful of people reading, but still, it's there.
Oh, and I starred out the subject so I don't get in trouble. Actually, I probably will anyway, because that's the kind of thing I have to put up with when it comes to my teachers.
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