The more I think about this, the saltier I get. See, my geography teacher was freaking bipolar about the assignments she gave us. People were constantly getting screwed over by how indecisive she was about her instructions.
In my situation, we were doing a Latin Demographic Booklet with a group. Her instructions were to create a pictorial graph based on the topic we got. She even showed us examples, with half-colored gingerbread men to represent religion. I had ethnicity, religion, and languages. All my information was in percentages so I decided to go the extra mile and be as creative as I could.
It took me half a Jackie Chan movie to finish, but I had bar on the bar graph in the shape of religious symbols, a globe split in different colors to represent ethnicity, and a circle graph in the shape of a speech bubble to represent language.
I felt pretty good about myself. My pages were gorgeous and I would probably get a little bit of extra credit.
However, word was going around on the day that it was due that people in her previous periods had all failed miserably. She had absolutely roasted their booklet pages and nearly no one survived the grading process. I didn’t really care. My work was spot on.
In that class, my group of three got called up to sit in front of her desk so she could reveal our grades.
“I’ll start with you, Katy,” she began, taking out her grade slip. “Katy, your graphs were done completely wrong. You information about the flag was alright, but that was the only thing you got right. Your graph about the literature rate wasn’t supposed to have a horizontal axis and you stated the percentages on the side, and you weren’t supposed to do that.”
Uh, what? You never said we weren’t supposed to do that.
“So, your grade is a 75.”
That was not good. I had peeked at the rest of our grade slips, and we had a significant increase in red ink notes compared to Katy. She moved on, eventually reaching me.
“So you had very nice graphs…”
“…but most of your graphs were done incorrectly.” She whips out my religion graph with all its symbols. “You were supposed to do one of these symbols, and use that to represent all the religions in your country.”
I was salty already.
She takes out my beautiful, beautiful globe representing ethnicities. I couldn’t help but admire it from where I sat. “Why did you do a globe for this topic?”
Duh, Sherlock. Google “ethnicity” and guess what’s gonna show up when you click on images.
“Because I believe that a globe represents ethnicities very well.”
“Well, honey, that’s not right. Don’t you think that a gingerbread man would symbolize ethnicity better than a globe would?”
Ma’am, would you like to add some salt to that salt?
Cue the fire and fury raging inside me. Was she freaking dang serious?! How in the living world did a gingerbread man (who can’t breath, can’t walk, can’t talk) exemplify how people in Colombia live their lives? I really, truly felt like flipping a table, jumping onto another table, beating my chest like a gorilla, and yelling at the top of my voice that she should stop being so unreasonable and give me the A I worked my butt off for.
Instead, I calmly looked her in the eye and said, “I don’t agree with you.”
She was speechless and honestly, it was the most satisfying thing to witness.
I still got a 40, bringing down my grade so hard that I was failing with a 67, but… sweet sweet revenge, thy name is contradiction.
So children, remember this cautionary tale. If you ever have her class, you shall surely get points off for putting in too much effort.
Like, that totally makes sense…