When I was a freshman, my first class was 5 hours long. At least it was supposed to be 5 hours long. It was also supposed to start at 8 am, but nope, the teacher didn’t show up ’til 10:30.
We were given one handout, possibly from the f***ing 80’s, about design principles, which she “lectured on” by reading aloud. It was barely even a handout, it was a fucking chart. A. F**king. Chart. Which she read aloud, not seeming to realize that, being a chart, it was meant to be understood just by looking at it.
“Vertical, upright lines are masculine. Horizontal lines are feminine. Angular zigzags are aggressive and male. Wavy lines are docile and female.”
Those words escaped her lips, with little explanation, accompanied only by nightmarish visions in my head of having queued up for hours, taken “talent” tests, and left behind the library that introduced me to John Berger, only to have this woman talk at me in this new fucking course. This. F*cking. Course. There may be valid reasons people say that “Those who can’t do, teach.” And this woman here was all of those valid reasons. All of them.
Another thought was, “Maybe I should’ve taken the entrance exam for Film (my other choice)…Why did I forget to take the entrance exam for Film?”
Yet another thought was, “Holy shit. I am going to teach the fuck out of this course.”
When I’m done complaining.
I’ve always been aware of how much complaining and shit-talking I do. (A lot.) I’ve also been told that it’s not cool to complain because it gets you nowhere, etc. real women don’t complain, blahblahblah. Bullshit. People complain all the time. Women complain not because they’re women or they’re whiny or they can’t get shit done, but because they’re human inhabitants of the same green earth. And it’s perfectly valid to expect the same out of both, and who the fUCk are you to tell me that I can’t stand upright or have sharp, jagged edges poking out of every side or be one thing and be another as well?” Also, if I don’t teach the shit out of this course, it will be because people like you are still here.
So there, thankfully she no longer is, and I now have a job teaching the shit out of this course. Without all the cussing. At least not in class.