Ok, if you all can help it then do everything in you power not to take Arabic, as it is the language of Hell. I hate that class soooooooo much…my teacher is the devil in disguise, I know it…
Allow me to explain what went so terribly wrong today during this particular Arabic class:
There I was, just sitting there with my head on the desk as is customary of me in classes that I despise or in classes that make me so bored I’m tired, doing nothing but minding my own business and being happily alone with my thoughts when, all of the sudden, the Arabic teacher walks in! Duh duh duunnnn! Now, you’re probably thinking, Well no duh the teacher walked in, that’s what teachers do: they walk into their classrooms so they can teach. What else would they do? Sit in the hallways?! Well I for one much wish they would. Oh, how I wish that they would just spend their time that would otherwise be spent torturing us by sitting in the hallways crocheting scarves for us or something along those lines…just an act that promotes kindness to your fellow humans rather than malice towards your students, for malice tends to be the intention behind the fake smiles. I am obligated to point out, however, that not all teachers have ill-intentions at heart, and that the ones who don’t are either:
a) on crack
or
b) normal, although I don’t think this one is the more probable of the two considering people who willingly work with kids must be crazy and not in the right state of mind.
So, anyway, today in Arabic the teacher came in…again. You see, we (meaning all eight of us in our class) have been fervently wishing that she would leave on maternity leave already. Oh, wait, you all reading this don’t know that. Well, you see, she’s pregnant, and today we found out that she is leaving not this Friday, but the one after that. We almost screamed. Now, let it be known that I hate very few things in life, some of those things being animal abuse, sluts, and Yasmin (a B**ch at school) but I do not hate very many people. I do indeed, however, hate my Arabic teacher. Here is how the looonngg hour and forty minutes continued:
My teacher, let’s call her Hilda because it is not one of my favorite names ever and I cannot use her real name or I would have stalkers, tried to make us remember something she claims to have taught us the day before spring break. Idiot. Let me tell you all why this would never work:
1) It was the day before spring break – who expected us to pay attention?!
2) She didn’t teach us that, the most she did with that Arabic verb was say it to get us used to it and its Arabic-ness.
3) Since when do we speak Arabic? I don’t know what that word of squiggles up on the bored is!
Ok, so I’m obviously mad at her; and by the way I can indeed read Arabic. So then she gets all mad that we “forgot.” I think we were wrongly accused because how do you forgot something you never knew, hm? Riddle me this! Anyway, then she started going through how to make things possessive. It is very hard to make things possessive in Arabic, let me tell you! You have to put sounds on the end that correspond to the correct pronoun. For example, if I wanted to say ‘my book’ I cannot say ‘ana (me) kitab (book)’, oh no, I must say ‘ana kitabee’, the ending ‘ee’ being used to go with ‘ana’ to make it have ownership of the book. But then if I wanted to say ‘her book’ I cannot say ‘heeya kitabee’ because ee is only used when saying ‘my.’ I must instead say ‘heeya kitabha.’ Now, I’m sure you all do this in Latin and such but come on! It’s hard stuff! Not to mention my hatred for the teacher doesn’t help my ability to like the language which in turn effects my ability to learn such difficult concepts as possession in another language. I mean, Japanese is a freaking BREEZE compared to Arabic. In Japanese you don’t have to go through all these complicated concepts.
Now just in case my inability to grasp the day’s lesson wasn’t bad enough I answered one of her questions about it wrong. Well, that’s no surprise considering I didn’t understand in the first place…So then you would think the teacher could take a hint that I don’t know all this and should be left alone but oh no, she decides to tell me to take my head off the desk along with another guy, Kyle (pretty cool guy; funny), because we won’t learn with our heads down. Well I was so close to saying “It’s not like we are going to learn it with our heads up either!” See, Kyle and I are the…idiots of the class. We are both very bright but Arabic just doesn’t fit us. So we are both steaming at her, as is almost always the case, when she starts pulling people up to the front to ask the class questions in Arabic, like: “Do you have your book?”. This little show lets her see how well you were paying attention and comprehending the lesson along with seeing how much the class absorbed. Double quiz time. So Chao Long (cool girl; sweet) is called up first. She’s really great and doesn’t call on me. By this point I’ve put my head back down cause, like I made clear earlier, I wasn’t gonna learn either way! Then she makes a mistake – the teacher I mean. She decides that I should have a go up front. B**ch… At this point, because she cannot get it through her skull that I’m done trying for the day, it has turned into a power struggle. I can’t do much with the assignment and so she tells me what to say, but I can’t remember the Arabic word for ‘them (feminine).’ she tells me to look in my book, which is a HUGE piece of crap i might add, but she says the page number really, really fast in Arabic. Turns out Chao Long had already found the page so she points it out to me. I’m looking for where it says ‘them’ but it turns out I’m looking in the wrong section. I tell the teacher I can’t find it so she picks up my book and points out the answer. God. By now not only am I embarrassed and angry, I’m also screwed for missing something supposedly obvious. Thank God the bell rang shortly after I sat down.
She makes me so mad, and the part I hate the most is when people say that it can’t be that bad, when in reality it is, only worse! Goodness. I ran into Amanda on the way out and told her the condensed version of the day’s class, and how I was gonna go cut my friggin wrists over it soon and she said that it’s OK though because I was leaving then and didn’t have to suffer through my insanely boring Japanese class, too. I suppose she was right, only I left just to find that I ended up balling in front of my mom and councilor, and not for the first time, after talking about the Arabic class.
I’m just so stressed right now; it’s sad.
Ugh.
</3,
Air
