And now, for your reading displeasure, I present an account of my flaming, fiery wrath directed at two persons: my asshole Spanish professor and my stupid, asshole self.
Part the First.
First, a quick background. I am taking four summer classes: American History, Ancient History, English and Spanish this summer. From the beginning, Spanish has been the thorn in my side, but it was a small, easily ignorable thorn. Yes, it’s difficult, and the professor does some things that annoy me, but BFD, right? I saw on the syllabus that an A is a 95. I’ve never been in a class where it’s higher than 93 before, and since I have a GPA I’m very proud of, I’ve been working my ass off to get an A in Spanish. I study like a motherfucking fiend. Day, night, while I’m at work, while I’m in the car. I’ve enlisted my boyfriend to help. I’ve started writing my journal entries in Spanish, reading Spanish sites, studying ahead in the book, anything to get this A. I didn’t study like this for Calc III!
I forgave her for the fact that the syllabus is terribly fucked up: homework is described on the day it is due, not the day it assigned, so that reading the syllabus leads you to believe it is assigned on Tuesday and due on Wednesday, not due on Tuesday. Of course, her chosen method of explaining this was just to get mad at the people who didn’t have their homework. (Fortunately, I did; I was lucky enough to have done it early.) So I was mildly pissed, but some of my friends told me that their other professors do it that way, too, so I stopped caring. No harm, no foul.
Her second transgression pissed me off more. The syllabus described our writing assignment as being a 100-word essay. I wrote a pretty darn good 110-word essay, and handed in the rough draft. She informed us the day we handed in the draft that the more we write, the more she likes us. What kind of bullshit is that? If we write more, you’ll like us?!?!?! Okay…if you want more than 100 words, assign more than 100 words. I get the draft back tomorrow and I will add more to it. Again, no harm, no foul.
Then she drops the shit bomb of all time on me. We had to write a 50-word paragraph describing our families. Again, “the more you write, the happier I’ll be.” I, of course, went hog-wild. My family consists of me, my mom, and my dad. (My dad is really my stepdad but I consider him my father. This is will be important.) In an effort to fit more words in (yes, I’m a greedy bitch when it comes to grades), I resorted to describing my cat, my boyfriend and…my (step)dad’s neice and nephew, whom I see only on holidays. I know enough about them to describe them well enough for the essay: their ages, jobs, state they live in and…nationality. This is where I have a problem.
Today she asks me, “Dia, your family is Puerto Rican?” (I had clearly outlined that my mother and father are Irish in the essay.) Not knowing how to explain it in Spanish, which is what she prefers we use, I said “some” thinking it was no big deal. She lets loose with a string of rapid Spanish while I stare boggle-eyed and try to catch a word. She then explains that I shouldn’t be in this class, the class is not for heritage speakers. I resort to English and clarify the relationship: they are the children of my stepfather’s sister (who is dead). She tells me it’s not fair because I might have heard Spanish growing up.
BULL-FUCKING-SHIT! There is no curve in this class. My being there would only be unfair if there were a curve, if I were monopolising her time, or if I were duct-taping the other students’ fucking mouths shut. I shouldn’t be in the class because I might have heard Spanish growing up??!?!?! Is she going to throw me out because I’m from New York? Because my best friend, boyfriend and step-cousins are Puerto Rican??!?! Yes, I’ve heard Spanish growing up. Was I supposed to walk through Manharttan with earplugs?? She changed the subject, but now I have no idea where I stand.
Now, I have a problem. I am doing very well in this class, as a result of my ridiculously hard work. She knows I do my work early, she knows I have a tutor. But now I am worried: there are nine people in the class so I can’t hide. If I do extremely well, I might get kicked out for knowing some Puerto Ricans. If I stop working hard I’ll get a grade I neither want nor deserve. Should I throw the mid-term this week? Make some errors in my composition? Also, since I have taken Italian class before and since I’ve watched Spanish TV my accent ain’t too shabby, either. Should I worry about that?
Part the Second.
ASSHOLE! You couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you? Couldn’t take a B, if that’s what it comes to. Now you might get kicked out, and not graduate on time, you stupid fucking grade-whore. And you’ll deserve it, because it will be all your fault. Something this easily avoidable…and you walk right into it.
Dia, you are a jackass. I hate you.