Ain't Missus BrightSide
Today I spent most of my two teaching period mengamuk.
Maybe I've told all of you that I'm the class teacher of a notorious Form 2 class named "Ideal". No, they ain't "ideal" students nor are they an ideal classroom. I don't know why I was assigned to this class at the first place. I think it was karma...I am being punished over actions that I don't have any idea of doing. I think.
Anyways...
If murder is not one of the capital sins or if our soul can be bought at any boutique, saloon or even kadai 2 ringgit, I might have killed all of them. Well, maybe not all but those sembilan jahanam will be executed or electrocuted first. I know I am not supposed to think like this but these nine SO*s have crossed the bounds of my patience.
And for the first time in my teaching life, I shot a blackboard eraser at one of them.
My textbook at another.
I crumpled the book belonging to one.
The six? They chickened out.
What they did you may ask?
Oh, well.
Apart from the usual tertinggal buku excuse, for those who read To Sir, With Love by Braithwaite, you'll get the idea. Just one thing tho', if characters like Denham found salvation, salvation eludes these nine students of mine. Other teachers gave them chance after chance after chance, yet they are still as cocky, as egoistic, as devillish.
They don't give us teachers the respect we gave to them.
What am I to do?
Maybe I've told all of you that I'm the class teacher of a notorious Form 2 class named "Ideal". No, they ain't "ideal" students nor are they an ideal classroom. I don't know why I was assigned to this class at the first place. I think it was karma...I am being punished over actions that I don't have any idea of doing. I think.
Anyways...
If murder is not one of the capital sins or if our soul can be bought at any boutique, saloon or even kadai 2 ringgit, I might have killed all of them. Well, maybe not all but those sembilan jahanam will be executed or electrocuted first. I know I am not supposed to think like this but these nine SO*s have crossed the bounds of my patience.
And for the first time in my teaching life, I shot a blackboard eraser at one of them.
My textbook at another.
I crumpled the book belonging to one.
The six? They chickened out.
What they did you may ask?
Oh, well.
Apart from the usual tertinggal buku excuse, for those who read To Sir, With Love by Braithwaite, you'll get the idea. Just one thing tho', if characters like Denham found salvation, salvation eludes these nine students of mine. Other teachers gave them chance after chance after chance, yet they are still as cocky, as egoistic, as devillish.
They don't give us teachers the respect we gave to them.
What am I to do?
