n00bfiles - Viewing n00b: Mr. H (former) English Teacher

//Real Life, time for a wake up call.


During my enrollment at my high school, I’ve witnessed many things. Funny, scary, HILARIOUS, and just plain stupid. Now, we Mainers, or Canadians as some refer to us, are a nice, fat, and prosperous people. Being home to only about 1.3 million people, we live among some of the highest taxes, and what USED to be the highest education. The education has gone down significantly with our state board shouting “Hey we’re good, LET’S RAISE THE STANDARDS!”
I’ll explain the class in question first. It was an hour and a half everyday, 1st and 2nd period. Oh boy, this class is a bitch. I only really dislike one, my English teacher.seen here(http://www.n00bstories.com/image.view.php?id=1180191902) He despises Wal-Mart, Tells us that we won’t go to college, and worst of all, has the biggest pit stains ever seen. I will quote one of his ‘awesome’ lectures for context: “…Or if you want another idea for a job if you get nowhere in life, you can move down to South America and work in a Volkswagon plant manufacturing cars for $2 a day… but atleast you‘ll get to enjoy the weather!” Oh how I wished of his demise.
A prime example of both this class’ problem, and Maine’s lazy ass students existed in a kid that didn’t even last half the year. An Eagle Scout at 14, you would think he would do well in school. Nope, in English he attained the rock hard score of 9. Zero- 9. So he dropped it, and he now has to take it next year, right after his junior history class, what a “ruh-tard.”
Anyways, the first and second quarters of this class were depressing, because you would have to go in every day and start off with that goddamn class. So, it basically put me in a routine bad mood. A number of students disappeared from the class, as it got harder, and more strict. Mr. Assface continued to handout 10 page packets filled with short stories and POETRY, OH BOY! During this time, I learned jack shit. some examples( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Our_Town , http://www.kingkong.demon.co.uk/gsr/silkstox.htm )
But, the story gets better, (and my year worse) as we entered the last two quarters. This was all due to that fateful book named The Great Gatsby. (http://www.n00bstories.com/image.view.php?id=1361050896) This “classic” was not that long, >200 pages, and it would’ve taken me a week or two to casually read it. But no, fuck no. We spent some DAMN time on that masterpiece. Every day, the hulk would tower at the front of the room, and tell us that we would get a bunch of work done today! And what happened? He got lost in himself, analyzing every sentence of a whole 2 pages. God jesus blue-esis it never ended, Day after day the cruel hell machine that was our lives churned on and on. It took us 109 days to finally finish. So many writings, so many hours of listening to that human speak, it killed me a little inside each time.
This is where the story turns for the better. After baseball season was in full swing, the work load in all of our other classes started to diminish, while the American Studies machine was at full bore. Then, one fateful day I was roaming the halls, and I started to hear talks of that man leaving, moving to New York at the end of the year. I instantly tried to verify it, and I was freed from the terrors temporarily, because only one big obstacle remained between me and my freedom, the English final exam.
He started talking about it, reminding us, yelling at us to study something, it was gonna be a big paper on a civil rights book, mine was Huck Finn. We No time compared to the time Gatsby took, to read it, and 90% of the other students didn’t even bother due to them being able to taste summer. So I was right at the end of the book one day when he just disappears, gone. It was a Thursday before our finals the next week. My awesome history teacher told us the fantastic news that all we had for English was a multiple choice reading excerpts test. The next week came, Monday and Tuesday he wasn’t there, I took my test, and when I walked out of the room, my knees buckled from under me. I was done, liberated from the beast.
The next day, he was there, and after I finished my history portion, I went up and, acting as casually as I possibly could after a year from hell, I shook his hand and said… “Good luck in New York.”(http://www.n00bstories.com/image.view.php?id=1260664922)
Yeah right. //