“We’ve gotta talk.” Those were the first words I heard from my 11th grade Chemistry/Algebra student. I cringed as she frantically recalled the events of her first days of school. She attends a local private high school (which shall remain nameless) and loathes her new Algebra II teacher (who, due to embarrassment, potential lawsuits and retaliation, shall also remain nameless).
‘Mrs. Sour Patch’ (maybe she does need a name after all) had been the death of many students at this same school in years past. Yet, my student- the mature angelic being that she is- had decided that her neophyte high school classmates had rushed to judge the teacher whose only crime had probably been that she was experiencing a few bad days. Surely, these immature students were just lazy and upset that “Mrs. Patch” was no push-over.
Push-over is exactly what my honors Algebra student would like to do to “Mrs. Sour Patch” now that she’s not only her homeroom teacher but also her Algebra II teacher. Her garbled speech through her rocky mountain teeth make it even harder for “Angel” to understand one of her most difficult subjects-Algebra. The dirty looks and sharp responses “Mrs. Patch” gave her made her feel like melting into her seat until the bell rang.
“She marked me tardy after sending me to my locker!” my student exclaimed. “When we ask her a question, she responds by saying ‘Didn’t I just say that?!'” My every attempt to make an excuse for the teacher’s unpleasant disposition was shot down by my student who was now convinced that her new teacher was setting them up to fail, had a score to settle, had maybe been part of some witch clan (and she had the nose to prove it). “She’s feeding on my soul! The deeper I sink into despair, the better “Mrs. Sour Patch” looks! She’s sucking the life out of her students!”
It’s going to be an eventful school year. Hocus Pocus!