BernadetteRochelle
Opinionated Bitch
- Joined
- Jun 12, 2017
- Posts
- 915
Abbey Shultz wandered into her classroom at Toronto High. After arranging her “I hate Mondays” mug, she sat at her desk and opened her plan book. The school board-approved curriculum dictated that her Senior English class read Beowulf over the next two weeks. Abbey wondered if she could get away with showing the 2007 film adaptation if she could get her students to finish the novel in time.
The bell rang and the young men and women, not much younger than Abbey herself, filed in. Half had their noses in their smartphones. Abbey let the class settle in, joking and laughing for five minutes after the bell that announced the start of class. “Okay guys,” she said. “We’re going to be reading a 1,200- year-old book-length poem from England. The language is so old, Shakespeare would find it as confusing as we find Shakespeare’s most troublesome plays.”
The students groaned. A few huffed and folded their arms. One young man kicked back in his chair and picked up his phone in defiance. “Did I mention guys with swords hacking demons apart?” Said Abbey in a near sexual coy voice.
For the remainder of the class, Abbey drew detailed maps of North-Western Europe on the whiteboard, diagramed waves of invasions by Angles, Saxons, and Jutes, and discussed in broad strokes the culture clash between Celtic Paganism and Roman Christianity. The young teacher pulled out every performance trick she knew. Most of the students seemed engaged, and no one fell asleep.
A high-pitched bong indicated the beginning of afternoon announcements. The gravely, high-pitched drone of the school secretary oozed noxiously from the loudspeaker in the corner of Abbey’s room.
“…and the entire Toronto High staff would like to congratulate Janis Woods for being accepted to Tulane University in Louisiana in the U.S. and Tyrone Jefferson for his acceptance to Cégep de Saint-Laurent in Montreal. Also, tickets to the Junior/Senior prom will be on sale all next week during lunch period, please stop by the office and purchase your tickets then.”
The students chattered excitedly about the upcoming prom. Several girls twittered about going downtown to buy their gowns together. A few guys bragged about getting lucky with their dates. One boy, named James cracked his knuckles lazily and boasted about his own would-be conquest. “Nancy, the captain of the cheer squad? I’m gonna bang her at my parent’s cabin at the after-party.”
“If she agrees to go with you maybe.” Said Glen, a mousy little star student, quite uncharacteristically.
“Oh, she’ll be begging me to take her to prom. Who’d go with you, you faggoty turd.” Sneered James.
Thoroughly cowed, Glen bowed his head and remained silent.
Abbie HATED how some of the other students treated Glen. He might be only around five and a half feet tall and wore the kind of coke-bottle eyeglasses you’d expect someone’s grandfather would have worn in the 1980s, but he was a gentle soul, funny, and brilliant. And kind of sexy in a nerdy way, Abbie thought. It was at that moment that Abbie formulated the ultimate lesson for James and the other damn bullies, she would take Glen to the prom.
As the end-of-day bell rang Abbie called out, “Don’t forget to read lines 1 through 1491 for tomorrow! Don’t worry about the preface and notes, we’ll discuss all of that in class tomorrow.” As her students dashed out the classroom door Abbie wondered how the hell she was going to pull off her plan.
Abbie Shultz:
The bell rang and the young men and women, not much younger than Abbey herself, filed in. Half had their noses in their smartphones. Abbey let the class settle in, joking and laughing for five minutes after the bell that announced the start of class. “Okay guys,” she said. “We’re going to be reading a 1,200- year-old book-length poem from England. The language is so old, Shakespeare would find it as confusing as we find Shakespeare’s most troublesome plays.”
The students groaned. A few huffed and folded their arms. One young man kicked back in his chair and picked up his phone in defiance. “Did I mention guys with swords hacking demons apart?” Said Abbey in a near sexual coy voice.
For the remainder of the class, Abbey drew detailed maps of North-Western Europe on the whiteboard, diagramed waves of invasions by Angles, Saxons, and Jutes, and discussed in broad strokes the culture clash between Celtic Paganism and Roman Christianity. The young teacher pulled out every performance trick she knew. Most of the students seemed engaged, and no one fell asleep.
A high-pitched bong indicated the beginning of afternoon announcements. The gravely, high-pitched drone of the school secretary oozed noxiously from the loudspeaker in the corner of Abbey’s room.
“…and the entire Toronto High staff would like to congratulate Janis Woods for being accepted to Tulane University in Louisiana in the U.S. and Tyrone Jefferson for his acceptance to Cégep de Saint-Laurent in Montreal. Also, tickets to the Junior/Senior prom will be on sale all next week during lunch period, please stop by the office and purchase your tickets then.”
The students chattered excitedly about the upcoming prom. Several girls twittered about going downtown to buy their gowns together. A few guys bragged about getting lucky with their dates. One boy, named James cracked his knuckles lazily and boasted about his own would-be conquest. “Nancy, the captain of the cheer squad? I’m gonna bang her at my parent’s cabin at the after-party.”
“If she agrees to go with you maybe.” Said Glen, a mousy little star student, quite uncharacteristically.
“Oh, she’ll be begging me to take her to prom. Who’d go with you, you faggoty turd.” Sneered James.
Thoroughly cowed, Glen bowed his head and remained silent.
Abbie HATED how some of the other students treated Glen. He might be only around five and a half feet tall and wore the kind of coke-bottle eyeglasses you’d expect someone’s grandfather would have worn in the 1980s, but he was a gentle soul, funny, and brilliant. And kind of sexy in a nerdy way, Abbie thought. It was at that moment that Abbie formulated the ultimate lesson for James and the other damn bullies, she would take Glen to the prom.
As the end-of-day bell rang Abbie called out, “Don’t forget to read lines 1 through 1491 for tomorrow! Don’t worry about the preface and notes, we’ll discuss all of that in class tomorrow.” As her students dashed out the classroom door Abbie wondered how the hell she was going to pull off her plan.
Abbie Shultz: