I thought I wrote about this awful graduate teacher who called me two days after Greyson P died and told me that if I didn’t turn in a final, she’d give me an incomplete and I’d have to take the course over but I couldn’t find it to link to. So anyway, I’d quit the literacy program because it was just too much back then when I was fighting to survive every day.
Not too long after Jack and Aaron died, a horrid state auditor came to our school and frightened me into going back to finish the program. It sucked donkey balls pretty hard. The first class was only about 4 months after they died and I struggled. It’s exhausting to take a class and work full time anyway but being in my situation…it was tough. The teacher, a different one with a cool accent, though was kind and understanding.
This semester for the last class, the teacher was the same one who I’ve hated ever since that call after Greyson died. I’ve never been able to forgive her for being so callus. She is a very demanding teacher with zero social skills under the best of circumstances. She liked to spend A LOT of time talking about her family members and then keep us over because there was stuff she needed to cover. It was a regular thing for me to walk out of there thinking I was clear on an assignment, only to arrive the next week and find out every one of us in the class had somehow misinterpreted what she’d said to do. It’s hard to convey how difficult this woman is to work with in a normal circumstance. Really only those of us who have been through it can understand.
I was very much dreading being back in her class and it was pretty shitty. The first night, she announces that her daughter is pregnant and goes on and on about it. Toward the end, looking right at me and saying the daughter was only 8 weeks along and so they weren’t getting TOO excited because, she mumbled, “things” happen. It was so awful…I cried all the way home. Thank God for my wonderful friends, MB and MC, who read every whiny, pitiful, angry email I shot off in class when I could get away with it and who sent me comforting emails and funny selfies every Monday. This small things really helped me survive. And now I’m DONE.
The awful teacher made us go to a restaurant and “celebrate” our last class of the program. Most of the students had finished their first Master’s and were actually graduating, it was strange to be around them. So happy and bubbly. I was pretty happy but just wanted to get through this last evening with a modicum of dignity.
She made us drag in all our notebooks. Yes, I really had to turn in everything you see below. I was the last one to be graded and most of the others had left. She actually criticized the phonics section of my work. Phonics which I teach every day of my life. Maddening until the very end.
I started to say to this woman that I was sorry there had been such a gap in my attendance for the program. Before I could get the end of it out, she chimed in, “Oh Paige, you were in NO WAY a difficult student.” Whaaa?? I know that lady, YOU were the difficult one. But I just stuttered that the scheduling had been tough. She said she UNDERSTOOD about my difficulties. ??? WTF??? Making me do a final two days after my boy died and then calling to find out why I’d dropped the next class…that’s understanding? However, Ms. No Social Skills, goes on to say her daughter, 5 months along now, is having trouble, contractions and bleeding but she’s going out there after graduation (which is a few weeks away) and she’s sure every thing will be fine. Whatever, Lady…I never have to see you again. What came out of my mouth, though, was comforting, I think. I even offered that the daughter could contact me if she needed a listening ear. Don’t know what I was thinking with that one. I’m glad to help any struggling mother especially a grieving one but I never want to see or hear from this woman again.
While I felt very light walking across the parking lot to leave, like a literal weight was off me, I cried on the way home. Release after so much tension over such a long period of time I guess.