The Daily Write: The Teacher (August 23, 2013)

Writing Prompt: The Teacher

Mr. Carr was white with a grey afro and glasses and a horrible, depressing suit he wore every day. He taught math. For us, it was bonehead math. You know, the math for the fuckups who skip school, or come to class high and late. We were the losers, some cooler than others, some smart, some not so much. I was smart, but not in math. Not in 1st grade when my teacher scolded me for not understanding the assignment:

Fill in the blanks

1 __ 345__78__10

I had no idea what to do. I was 6. I had been late to class. The papers were already on the desks and when I got there she told me to figure out what to do. There were no instructions, I had no clue. I asked her and she just told me to figure it out. Figure it out. Figure it out.

One summer when I came up to live with mom and my brothers for a couple months, she put me in special math tutoring. It was at the Easter Seals school for handicapped children which I loved because the math tutor and I met in a huge room with a ramp and giant balls and all kinds of cool toys. After we worked together, she let me play.

But it didn't last. I didn't remember how to do math when I got back to California.

By the time I had Mr. Carr, I was on my way out anyway. I rarely went to school and when I did I was self-conscious and angry. I felt embarrassed to be there, to be seen, to be in that stupid class with that freaky teacher, to not know math, to not be capable of knowing math.

So yeah, I told him to fuck off. And then I ran out of the classroom, out of the school, down the blocks to the park where I looked for someone to save me, get me out of there, get me into a van without side windows where I could hide and get high and wait to grow up. I just couldn't fucking wait. I just wanted to be a grownup in control of her own life. A life where I never would have to do math again. I hated fucking math.