There are certain things I really, really hate.

One of those things, is when a teacher just gives up on a class.

No pretense, no reason at all, just, "no, that's okay, I don't want to help you."

That happened to me last year, in Spanish.

Now, granted, I absolutely loathed my Spanish teacher last year -- "hate" is such a strong word, as I am constantly reminded -- and I wanted nothing to do with the woman.

I first met the woman in tenth grade, when she was taking over for the cool spanish teacher; he was leaving Nowheresville to go teach spanish and coach varsity basketball elsewhere on the island.

So, instead of having the cool Cuban guy (who coached varsity basketball afterschool) we now have this remarkably stuck-up woman, who's rather proud of herself because she studied in Madrid.

You caught that, right? All the other teachers were native speakers. She studied it.

I slogged through her class -- and, by "slogged", I mean "I hated it, but I got a 90".

I got her again last year, for eleventh grade Spanish. Now, keep in mind, there is a Spanish Regents Exam -- at the end of Spanish 3.

So what does our teacher do?

She gives up on us, half way through the year. "Fine, whatever, I don't care."

I think I got a 90 on the Regents. I think. I don't remember. I do know I got mastery (85 and up).



At any rate, having a teacher simply "give up" on you isn't fun. At all.

Especially when, y'know, you have no idea what the notes mean, and the teacher refuses to explain them.

Like in Mass Media. He just decided, today, he's not going to teach us. Why, I honestly couldn't tell you, but he simply refuses. He puts notes up on the board, that we have to copy down -- notes that make no sense at all -- and then won't explain when you ask what they mean.

The ad, like the comic strip, belongs to the world of games, to the world of models and situations elsewhere.

*(If there's anyone out there that wants to explain that, please do. Because no one else will.)*

Then, there's my Spanish teacher -- this year. In the middle of the class; in the middle of Rubén Blades' Pedro Nevajo, she just walks out. She just leaves. That's it. Just gone. No more.

The last thing I heard before she left was, "wait, what does 'flojo' mean, again?"

...so, yeah.

I'm not, y'know, going to embarass my teachers or anything, but, seriously, why do they always do it to the entire class? All they're doing is punishing the good kids. Right?


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