In 5th grade I had what I believed to be a “really cool” teacher, Mr.RhymesWithPeter. He was young, funny and made learning fun.
Things were great for the first few months of school. He took a liking to me and would show favoritism towards me. He’d always let me line up first, go to lunch first and anytime the office needed a student to help with something (like, working in the cafeteria—which, let me tell you, was highlight of my LIFE in elementary school. Hello! I got to (“got to” as in, it was a “privilege”) wear a net on my head AND eat all of the left over tater tots. SCORE!)
But things started taking a turn for The Weird about halfway through the year. He started picking on me in a way that wasn’t funny. He’d make jokes about me in front of everyone and the entire class would start laughing and while I’d want to run away and hide, or tell him to shut the hell up, I’d just laugh along with everyone.
His “joking” became degrading and mean spirited and I really did start to hate him.
The end of the year came and I was so excited to finally be out of his class and not have to see his ugly face anymore.
But then! He pulled me aside on the last day of school to tell me a secret.
“Next year I’m moving up to teach 6th grade. The principal let me pick 2 students to take with me and since you and Jennifer are my favorite students, I chose you. So, you’ll be in my class again next year!”
To this day, I remember feeling sick inside when he told me that. I’d be stuck with his knock kneed ass for another year. And the way he said “you’re my favorite” gave me the creeps.
I’ll never forget the first day of 6th grade. I dreaded seeing his face again. I was nervous, scared and also hopeful that he had changed and that this year would be different.
Just like in 5th grade, the first few days were great. Well, except for the hug he gave me on the first day back. He was all “Oh, I MISSED YOU, come give me a hug!”
Puke.
Within a few weeks, things went back to the way they were in 5th grade. He was constantly teasing me and degrading me in front of the class.
One day my friend Betty had brought in her hula costumes for sharing and she was going to perform a hula dance for the class. She had 3 different costumes so she asked Mr.RhymesWithPeter if she could have me and another friend model the other 2 costumes. He said yes and so we went to the bathroom to put on the costumes. It took us a while, because damn, grass skirts and coconut bras are a BITCH to put on. He wasn’t happy about the class time we had “wasted” and made that knows as soon as we walked in.
We all apologized and took our place at the front of the room. Betty talked about each of the different costumes that we were wearing and then announced that she’d be doing a hula dance. Me and the other girl who was modeling the costume stood against the wall as she started the record and began to dance.
All of a sudden, Mr.RhymesWithPeter jumped up out of the metal chair he would hump during class (it’s hard to explain, but maybe someday I’ll draw an illustration in paint.) and stopped the record.
“Why are you just standing there, Y? Why aren’t you dancing?” He shouted.
“Um, because I don’t know how to do the hula? I was just modeling the costume!”
He was so mad that his face was red.
“Oh NO! NO way did you waste all of our time to stand there like that. You’re going to dance. YOU ARE GOING TO DANCE! Now! Start dancing.”
I could feel the blood rush through my body and I felt as though I was going to pass out. I wanted to die! Right there! But I couldn’t die, because I had to dance! My teacher was FORCING ME TO DANCE.
The music started again and I stood there, frozen with fear and humiliation.
“Dance! Right now, Y. Dance!”
And so I started to move with the music, trying desperately to copy Betty’s moves. I was failing and started to cry. The entire class was laughing, as was Mr.RhymesWithPeter. Oh, how he laughed at me as I stood there making a fool out of myself.
The 35 year old me would have stabbed him in the sac with a pencil for being such an asshole to an innocent little girl, but when you’re 12 years old and your teacher is telling you that you HAVE to do something, you fucking do it.
At least I did, because I didn’t want to get in trouble for not obeying.
After the song was over, I went running out of the class to go change back into my clothes. I sat in the bathroom stall and cried uncontrollably. I didn’t want to go back to class to see that evil man. I didn’t want to face my classmates.
From that day on, I hated him and I decided I’d never let him do that to me again.
I started rebelling against him and talking back when he’d make an inappropriate comment.
He didn’t like it ONE BIT and I know that because for the first time ever, I got d’s on my report card and he told my parents some really bad things about me. That I was disrespectful and that I disrupted the class.
My parents were the kind of parents who ALWAYS believed what the teacher said. Always so when we got home from conference, my parents were ready to bust my ass GOOD. But I told them what he had done to me, I told them how he constantly teased me in class. How he would always laugh at me and make jokes about me.
I didn’t expect them to believe me. I expected them to say I was lying and just trying to get out of trouble.
But they did believe me.
They called the school that night and asked for another meeting with him. They told him what I had told them and they asked him to stop teasing me and to treat me fairly.
I thought my life was going to get better because they stood up for me.
I was wrong.
The next day in class, he made a joke about me. Everyone started laughing and then he said “Oh! Wait! I forgot! I’m not allowed to joke with Y anymore because she told her mommy and daddy that I pick on her. Sorry about that Y, I’ll stop now, I don’t want you to tell on me again.”
I can’t even express the hatred that I felt for that disgusting man in that moment. And I something inside of me snapped.
Anytime he’d say something to me, I’d smart off. He’d get pissed off and kick me out of class. I’d have to sit on the bench outside of class and when he’d come out he’d say “are you ready to come back in and behave now?” And I’d say “No. I’m not.” And he’d slam the door and leave me out there.
One day, we were playing flag football and I was really good at it. (Because I was a tom boy and I wasn’t scared of the boys.) He kept making remarks about the way I’d play and finally, he said “LOOK AT Y, SHE PLAYS LIKE A BOY!”
I stopped, walked over to him, pulled my pants down just enough to show my asscrack and screamed “Oh yeah? Well, at least I don’t WALK LIKE THIS!!!! And I began to imitated his Knock Kneed Dork Walk. (You see, he had a big belly and would wear his pants below his stomach.)
All of the kids started laughing and he stood there SPEECHLESS. I am pretty sure that he wanted to hit me in the face. I couldn’t believe I had just done that and as I sit here typing, I’m still a little mortified that Little Me was capable of such a cruel act. But, a person can only take so much teasing before they snap, you know?
His face turned bright red, he pointed his finger towards the west and said in a very controlled voice “Get your ass to the principals office right.this.very.minute.”
I pulled my pants up and started to walk towards the office feeling very proud of myself for finally having stood up to Mr.RhymesWithPeter. I was smiling and not at all scared of what would happen to me in the principal’s office.
That is until I remembered that the principal was going to call my parents and tell them that I had just disrespected my teacher and also exposed my ass crack to the entire 6 grade class, then my pride turned to fear and worry for my buttocks, which were about to get the whipping of their poor, little, innocent lives.
(Yes, there was a time in my life in which My ‘Tocks were little.)
The whipping was well worth it because I had finally got revenge on the man who had degraded and humiliated me for 2 entire school years, but, as luck would have it, the true revenge would come 14 years later when Mr.RhymesWithPeter walked into the day care center where I worked with 2 of the brattiest, most obnoxious children I have ever met and said “I’d like information on the day care here.”
And for the next 5 years, I was in charge of HIS little “angels” every single day after school.
Can you hear my evil laugh? CAN YOU?
(Actually, because I am not an asshole like he is, I treated them well and never once made them DANCE RIGHT NOW! But, I did have a ton o'fun telling them stories about their dickhead of a dad.)
Hmmm...
We may have to think of some ADDITIONAL revenge for him.
Painful revenge or the evil, dark nature...