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The day I caught my teacher crying, I didn't feel bad at all. I'd seen teachers cry before - my fourth grade teacher had cried all the time. We had been "so bad" that substitutes refused to take our class anymore. I had thought that sub was ridiculous because we really hadn't done anything. We talked and played, but we were in fourth grade! I had done my work, so why was I being scolded with the rest of the class? Of course, seeing Mrs. Odell cry in front of the entire class had made me feel a little guilty then, but I still knew she was overreacting, just like that sub had. We weren't bad kids, and I still don't know what we did that made substitute teachers think we were so awful.

So that day in seventh grade, when I caught Mrs. Casten crying, I didn't feel bad. It was different though. Some kid had screamed "f--- Mrs. Casten" into her class as we were leaving school the last day before Spring Break. The kid had been smart - she did it fast and ran for it. I only know it was a girl because I heard the voice. All the kids laughed, but Mrs. Casten didn't even go to the door to try and stop them. I think she knew there was no point. We all watched to see what she would do. She didn't react. I figured she had to have been used to it; everybody knew she was the mean teacher in the school. When I went back into the school later that afternoon, I heard her in another teacher's room, crying because that one little girl had gotten to her more than she had shown.

I didn't feel bad that next time either. Mrs. Ackers had been laughing with her students during homeroom before checking her email. When she suddenly put her hands to her mouth and started breaking out in sobs, we all thought she had gone crazy. She ran from the room, but returned a few minutes later, totally calm even though she hadn't bothered to fix her make-up. Some of the suck-ups offered hugs to "make her feel better." I just ignored her. I found out from another teacher that some kid had shot himself, and apparently Mrs. Ackers had taught him only two years before that. She must have liked her students more two years ago, 'cause she never would have cried over any of us.

I still didn't feel bad, even the next time, when Mr. Bell discovered that the students didn't like him. Mr. Bell was mean, always telling us he had already been through our grade, and wasn't teaching himself. And he was boring, expecting us to listen even though we didn't care what he was saying. We rarely did group work and he didn't let us listen to music or play video games on our laptops. Mr. Bell had never written me a detention, or held me after, or nothin'. He always let me go to the bathroom when I asked and everything. I had never had any problems with anything, although he did give me my first C. He got me in so much trouble with my parents! All because he didn't give me my make-up work when he should have. He let me make it up "late," but what kind of favor is that? He should have given my work anyway! I was talking to Alex when Mr. Bell walked by us, and Alex started screaming loudly to go wave to my favorite teacher. I just ignored him, but I saw Mr. Bell's smile fade...he knew Alex was sarcastic. I just ignored both of them and pretended I hadn't heard. Mr. Bell needed to hear nobody liked him. Maybe he'd finally let us do what we wanted!

The last time I caught the teacher crying, I did feel bad. I felt more than bad; I felt awful, humiliated, and rejected. The email from the parent had caused it. A parent was angry because her daughter had received a zero on an assignment for not following the instructions given the day before; she wasn't even closed to finished. The parent told the teacher that "she must be a miserable person" and "no wonder all of her students hated her." I didn't think she should listen the parent. The parent didn't even realize that student had lied; she had simply been told to redo the assignment correctly the next day. The parent was being spiteful and cruel, trying to cause their child's teacher pain. It wasn't the first time the parent had sent personal attacks over email to the teacher. I told that teacher that her students did like her. I told that teacher that she was making a difference in somebody's life, even if she never found out who it was. But as I looked at that teacher in the mirror, I wasn't sure I believed myself.

Written on April 22, 2016

Description
The day I caught my teacher crying, I didn't feel bad at all. I'd seen teachers cry before - my fourth grade teacher had cried all the time. We had been "so bad" that substitutes refused to take our class anymore. I had thought that sub was ridiculous because we really hadn't done anything. We talked and played, but we were in fourth grade! I had done my work, so why was I being scolded with the rest of the class? Of course, seeing Mrs. Odell cry in front of the entire class had made me feel a little guilty then, but I still knew she was overreacting, just like that sub had. We weren't bad kids, and I still don't know what we did that made substitute teachers think we were so awful.

So that day in seventh grade, when I caught Mrs. Casten crying, I didn't feel bad. It was different though. Some kid had screamed "f--- Mrs. Casten" into her class as we were leaving school the last day before Spring Break. The kid had been smart - she did it fast and ran for it. I only know it was a girl because I heard the voice. All the kids laughed, but Mrs. Casten didn't even go to the door to try and stop them. I think she knew there was no point. We all watched to see what she would do. She didn't react. I figured she had to have been used to it; everybody knew she was the mean teacher in the school. When I went back into the school later that afternoon, I heard her in another teacher's room, crying because that one little girl had gotten to her more than she had shown.

I didn't feel bad that next time either. Mrs. Ackers had been laughing with her students during homeroom before checking her email. When she suddenly put her hands to her mouth and started breaking out in sobs, we all thought she had gone crazy. She ran from the room, but returned a few minutes later, totally calm even though she hadn't bothered to fix her make-up. Some of the suck-ups offered hugs to "make her feel better." I just ignored her. I found out from another teacher that some kid had shot himself, and apparently Mrs. Ackers had taught him only two years before that. She must have liked her students more two years ago, 'cause she never would have cried over any of us.

I still didn't feel bad, even the next time, when Mr. Bell discovered that the students didn't like him. Mr. Bell was mean, always telling us he had already been through our grade, and wasn't teaching himself. And he was boring, expecting us to listen even though we didn't care what he was saying. We rarely did group work and he didn't let us listen to music or play video games on our laptops. Mr. Bell had never written me a detention, or held me after, or nothin'. He always let me go to the bathroom when I asked and everything. I had never had any problems with anything, although he did give me my first C. He got me in so much trouble with my parents! All because he didn't give me my make-up work when he should have. He let me make it up "late," but what kind of favor is that? He should have given my work anyway! I was talking to Alex when Mr. Bell walked by us, and Alex started screaming loudly to go wave to my favorite teacher. I just ignored him, but I saw Mr. Bell's smile fade...he knew Alex was sarcastic. I just ignored both of them and pretended I hadn't heard. Mr. Bell needed to hear nobody liked him. Maybe he'd finally let us do what we wanted!

The last time I caught the teacher crying, I did feel bad. I felt more than bad; I felt awful, humiliated, and rejected. The email from the parent had caused it. A parent was angry because her daughter had received a zero on an assignment for not following the instructions given the day before; she wasn't even closed to finished. The parent told the teacher that "she must be a miserable person" and "no wonder all of her students hated her." I didn't think she should listen the parent. The parent didn't even realize that student had lied; she had simply been told to redo the assignment correctly the next day. The parent was being spiteful and cruel, trying to cause their child's teacher pain. It wasn't the first time the parent had sent personal attacks over email to the teacher. I told that teacher that her students did like her. I told that teacher that she was making a difference in somebody's life, even if she never found out who it was. But as I looked at that teacher in the mirror, I wasn't sure I believed myself.

Written on April 22, 2016