when i was in year 9 (8th grade) we were reading robert frost's the road not taken and the teacher asked us what we thought the poem was about, she asked us to really 'read between the lines' (as you do with poetry) and i gave my explanation, saying it was about this man having to make a really important choice, possibly having to choose between two lovers.
that's when my teacher told me to see her after class. nobody knew what was going on. i was confused as heck omg.
i had to follow her to the staff room after class and she insulted the fuck out of me. she called me stupid so many times in like, less than 5 mins. there was another teacher in the room and she was so shocked she just looked at me speechless.
i went back to class in tears. i went home in tears. the next day, i went to school feeling miserable.
(my mum being my mum went apeshit cray) (also, my mum and that woman were collegues at the time, so a teachers' meeting was held) (and mum being a teacher went apeshit cray)
i am nearing the end of my frist year at university now and i still find it hard to express my views on certain poems openly. i prefer writing it all down instead of saying it out loud, afraid of going through a similar experience. especially now that i'm older and that i have i higher sense of pride.
yesterday i read the poem for the first time in years and i can still see her fucking face yelling at me for no fucking reason.
moral of the story is: NEVER CALL ANYBODY (NOT EVEN YOUR PET) STUPID. words hurts harder than we expect. they cut, deep.