Ordinary Nothing

Thinking back to my school days for the previous post, I also recalled a certain incident.

I was sitting in class, the teacher was talking about something
boring (Nope, been too long, I don’t remember what) and so I wasn’t
paying attention. I didn’t speak with anyone else or made any noise (That I recall. Been a while, like I said), I
just didn’t pay attention.

She noticed. I think I said I was sorry (If I did, it was probably a
lie, but it was for the sake of politeness to a teacher, which at that
tender age seemed more important than complete honesty). In typical
schoolroom manner she didn’t leave it at that, but instead told me to
collect my things and leave the class.

What usually happened in those cases (I was far from the first kid
asked to leave the class due to ‘interrupting’ the lesson. It was my first time, but far from being her first) was that the
kid started crying, pleading, yelling, and making a huge loud mess
begging to be left in the class. This never helped, the kids always got
their schoolbag and went out to the hall, and it wasted lesson time,
but everybody enjoyed the show.

I was being a pragmatist, and I was (still am) generally indifferent to
social trivia. If the teacher told me to get my things and get out, it
seemed to me that the best thing to do will be to get my things and get
out. Which I quietly and promptly did. I mean, I was bored anyway, so
why make a pointless scene asking to stay ?!

The rest of the lesson passed quietly in the hallway. I never had a
problem to find things to do by myself. And I figured this was about
the end of this matter.

Not quite. You see, as it turned out the poor teacher was
incredibly offended by my behaviour. Yes, offended and hurt. And yes,
to a large enough a degree to develop general hostility toward me, and
to half sobbingly complain to my mom on the next meeting at school.

She got the feeling that I just don’t give a darn about her at all
(why should she bloody care?) .  She expected the loud scene, and
was shocked that she didn’t get it. How was it that she put it to my
mother… "I told him to take his notebook and bag, and to get out to
the hall. And he… he… he just took his things and went out! Just
like that! He didn’t ask to stay! He didn’t try to convince me to leave
him, or to argue!
He didn’t cry, or anything! It was like he didn’t care that I sent him
out! He didn’t care about me at all!!!".

Appalling, isn’t it? I was being a good kid that did exactly what his
teacher told him to do, and doing so ranked by this teacher as one of
the worst problems any kid gave her that school year…

February 3rd, 2005 at 14:30 EET | Categories: Personal | Track comments. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.