The past six days have been...

average?

I basically did what is what seems to be a peaceful routine. Go to school, talk to friends, have conversations going through multiple topics, and a skill to be able separate the wise from the false prophets.

The wise will know what to say and with meaning.

The false prophets are those filled with knowledge. The only catch being they have an opinion or observation on it.

Like Mr. McNeill.

Speaking of the man, let me show you my conclusion as to being taught by him for well over one hundred days.

HOW TO BE A BAD TEACHER:

React on emotion.

Well someone ticks off Mr. MacbethMcNeill, he will make them either submit under their own will when they don't know enough English or when they do, leave the class.

Thats not bad, thats just regular teacher justice. If I had it my way, I'd give the ol' fashion Latina mama butt-whoopin', and I know what those felt like. Those told you "Yo no carro again!"

Instead, he turns to the class and says "Congratulations, _________ has just bought you all an essay. I want an essay in MLA format, rough draft, final draft typed and double spaced, due this _______."

I chuckle in disbelief.

You shouldn't do that to your class. I don't care if you have the right or power, you piece of ####, you're reacting upon emotion. Thats stupidity. You aren't doing your job, you just want the rest of us to suffer from one person's disagreement with you.

Another thing.

Two weeks ago, he gave us a grammar packet. Each night, the homework would be to do whatever he assigned us to do. I didn't do it, of course, not in retaliation but I've bombed English 10 like Hiroshima. I could have done all my homework for this term, aced the final perfectly... and he would still have trouble deciding whether or not he'd recommend me for summer school. The F's of the past mark you like scars, people, don't forget that in High School all you middle school graduates.

What he did, because he felt so right doing so, was have the class take a quiz...

Together...

He had us seated at our desks (he lets me sit on the comfy chairs he has because he still thinks I have a pilonidal cyst described here. Thats right, I'm not embarrassed by it anymore) and goes randomly from student to student asking them to define terms that would seem so simple if he didn't want the answer to be 100 per-freakin'-cent correct.

"What is an adverb Catarina?"

"An adverb... um..."

"No um's, minus one."

"What?"

"Go on! Answer the question!"

"Um..."

"Catarina..."

"An adverb is-"

"Minus ten points."

"What?!"

"You were suppose to say 'An adverb modifies an adjective, a verb, or another adverb. Pat! Come on, moron! (<-calls Pat that regularly. Pat doesn't mine I believe) For half-credit, what is an adverb?"

So on and so forth.

But the biggest catch to this?

He took it off the percentage of our last grade. Say someone go a one hundred on their last grade and that was the only thing keeping them passing for the year. We went down 70 percent.

So that assignment was at a 30. Which is an F.

With what he was doing, I was building up a storm inside, ready to let out an argument enough to shut him down like a five-star restaurant with rats. What did I care? I'm failing this class worse than anyone else, so why not?

I refrained to do so because he would've taken points off for the rest of the class, who have worked hard for their grade. Two people were already failing at this point.

Otherwise, Mr. McNeill is just another guy with a lot of knowledge and an opinion on it. Plus, he can keep up a good conversation.

~AA