Mrs. Smith and I, My Dearest Enemy

Mrs. Smith was that type of teacher you just can’t simply get along with easily, breathing on you every corner for every little thing that you do. Add that on top of you being an immigrant with the thickest accent in the class and his ego over the top. The perfect shooting target for Mrs. Smith. In various instances she came after me because she misunderstood my actions, more often than not, she would blame me of things I didn’t do. The battle against my biggest enemy, a call to arms to defend myself.

Mrs. Smith had been teaching in my Middle School for almost half a decade, specifically in the ESL program helping new students with introducing and making a smooth path into more complicated subjects like Algebra seems smooth to new international students. She would often call me to the board, be really picky and often think I was chewing gum because I couldn’t pronounce my R’s well and it seem like I was chewing gum when speaking English. One of those instances was one a big misunderstanding like this happened, I accommodated my chair a little bit back making me stand up, In Mrs. Smith’s mind she thought I was somehow making a bubblegum. “Anthony! How dare you make a bubblegum in my class while I’m in the middle of the lesson!” she said with the might of all nations in her hand. To which I respond defiantly with my accent like if an earthquake shook me “You can look at my mouth Mrs. Smith, I didn’t make a bubblegum. I wasn’t chewing anything at all” I opened my mouth to prove her that I was not chewing gum, to which apologized with “I’m sorry but it is hard to understand you.” The most cold and harsh apology I would ever hear from her.

This was the declaration of war that I needed to justify my animosity to Mrs. Smith. Why should I, the person that is the most active, most intelligent, and most ‘respectful, should stand such disrespected and coldness from such a teacher that would often accuse me of things I didn’t do! This set the stage for things to come, how my big tall confidence and ego came down because of my own Achilles heel: my accent and language.

It was a Thursday that I vividly remember because my father promised me that after school, we would go to the Apple Store to buy me a computer because of my good behavior in school. I will remember this day vividly because it was cold as a winter in Siberia, it was that type of weather to make you go to bed and sleep, I was really excited, I was wearing my winter garment and had it on with me during school because of how anxious I was to leave, I couldn’t wait for the bell to ring so I can go home and rush to the bus quickly so I can be with my dad and get that wonderful computer I wanted, little did I know that the image that I have been building for myself and my family will collapse faster than a demolition.

Math class at 8:00 AM, everything was going good thus far but when I raised my hand and tried to answer, Mrs. Smith said “Anthony, your English is rubbish and needs improvement, I can’t barely understand you!” then I was like “Rubbish what? My accent?!” then under my breath softly I started cursing her harshly, I blew my steam off at her every time she sent me back during math exercises, every time during class that she would say I would need to speak more clearly and louder because at that point I was speaking gibberish because I couldn’t direct myself to her properly. Then under my breath, when she didn’t ‘hear’ me I started throwing every insult at her that was in the Spanish language, even the slang insults from my country that I thought she wouldn’t understand.

After that frustrating class, I had English and I regained my positivity for the day to end as I was finally done with the dreaded math class. When English class ended, I heard over the speakers an announcement: “Anthony Llanos please come to the principal’s office in mediately” It send shivers down my spine thinking of the unthinkable: Did she really understand all that mean stuff? I was confident that it wasn’t that and that it was probably nothing. Once I opened the door, I saw Mrs. Smith with tears in her eyes “I can’t believe you would go out of your way to disrupt my class but also say those things about me, you are the meanest student I’ve ever had” she said sobbing with a tissue in her eyes.

What followed was a lengthy conversation with me, I had to call my dad and explain what I did, completely destroying the overconfident cocky person I was into ruins. I asked if I can have 5 minutes alone in the bathroom. They agreed and that’s when I broke down completely. I was really depressed, but such type of depression was the one that clear the fog of dangerous ego in my head and soon the guilt followed, Mrs. Smith wasn’t a fascist or an enemy; she was a human being with emotions and thoughts, and while she did prejudicated me multiple times and was very cold and disrespectful towards my accent and usage of Spanish, even to the point of calling it rubbish, she never did insult me directly like the way I did to her that caused her to break down the way she did in the Principal’s office.

The principal and Dean soon where on the way to set my expulsion from school, but the real hero of the story at the end of this was my dearest “enemy”: Mrs. Smith.

“I think that if you apologize to me, and improve your speech issues because I understand is hard, then you can have a go in my class again because besides communication, you do good in the class” she said adamantly after sobbing for a while. They agreed, they forced me to write an apology to her, one which I gladly did and was very lengthy. I had lunch detention from that day until the last days of the school year. And did I ever go to the Apple Store that day? I did get a whopping from my parents and the biggest punishment ever. I lost my phone and was given a Nokia instead. I lost all computer rights and I had to do homework in the library from then until the end of Seventh Grade. As for me, I learned that every person is a stranger, and I wouldn’t truly understand them if I put myself in their shoes. Yes, Mrs. Smith didn’t quite understand me but I also didn’t understand her, but at the end of the day it became my biggest learning experience. I learned to never bite my tongue like that ever again, to never abuse my language like that, and to also not behave like the Big Shot I was, and I hope that this experience remains vivid in my years to come as a lesson of how powerful language can be.