But teachers know everything!! Write about a time a teacher disappointed you.
I’ve been disappointed by teachers a number of times.
But this time hurt.
I was in college and taking a course on health and nutrition. Mr. Fields was a Dr. Oz WannaBe who ate mixed greens and drank vegetable concoctions while he lectured. He was spunky, energetic, funny, and extremely intelligent.
I took the class with my roommate/teammate and we had a friendly relationship with Mr. Fields who happened to be a big fan of volleyball and sometimes watched our games. This man’s passion for nutrition changed everything I thought about the way I ate. I lost 15 pounds after taking his class because he helped me see what I was doing to myself with some of my food choices.
I had respect for him, which made what he said so difficult to hear.
My step-dad, Bob, had been diagnosed with cancer earlier that year. My family was devastated. I stupidly thought I had paid my dues in the cancer department after my Dad died when I was in second grade. Bob’s diagnosis was the last thing any of us saw coming, but I wanted to stay positive. Times had changed since my Dad had died and SO many people survived cancer. We were going to fight this.
Bob had just begun a round of chemotherapy after some failed treatments and my family wanted to remain hopeful that this would do the trick.
Mr. Fields, of course, knew none of this when he decided to direct a lecture on nutrition into a lesson on our bodies ability to fight disease. He spoke excitedly about our immune systems and blood cells and how everything works together. He talked about different diseases and what they do and then he got to cancer.
And I’ll never forget his words that day when he said, “oh man when you get on chemotherapy you’re as good as dead…haha…they don’t give you chemotherapy until you’re about to kick the bucket…man I tell ya, chemotherapy is poison…you’re on your last legs when you’re forced to put THAT into your body!”
He laughed and carried on and I stared a hole directly through my notebook, willing myself to speak up. To say something.
How dare this man refer to my stepdad as being on his “last legs”. How dare he use a slang jocular term like “kick the bucket” to refer to the painful process of losing a life. How dare he not consider the fact that there might be students in his class holding onto chemo with both hands. How dare he take that hope away.
Someone needed to tell him. Someone needed to say something. Someone needed to make this guy feel like an ass for being ignorant and insensitive and inconsiderate.
My teeth could not have been clenched tighter.
I never raised my hand.