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=   F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K.   =
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                         I Pay For This?
                         ---------------

"Fuck you and your little fucking grade book," is all I could think while I
looked down at the slip of paper with my name and an "F" on it. I'm
miserable, feeling hopeless, helpless. The first emotions that come to me
are anger, vengeance. After a few minutes of stewing, the anger subsides and
the sorrow kicks in.
       Yes, here I am again, "F" on the paper. The magic paper that is going
to add up with the other papers I have been handed back with A's B's C's and
D's on them. Last week I thought I was doing so well, I was happy. Now I am
feeling empty, alone, helpless. "I should just drop out and get a job,"
echoes in my mind as I stare at the "F" and remember all the times I had
been in this same situation. "What about my father? He'll be crushed if I
don't graduate from college," I ponder other solutions. This is where the
last minute bravery kicks in, where I tell myself, "I'll show them, I'm
gonna get straight A's from here on out." Then I suddenly remember how many
times in the past I've told myself that.
       It's back to the depression again, the teacher lectures on and I
wonder how you ended up in such a fucked up situation. I look at him and
wonder, "who gave this asshole the authority to judge me?" I feel a tinge
of that anger coming back.
       I'm looking at the grade on the paper again, pondering it's true
meaning. This "F" says to me, "you did nothing, you are nothing, you have
failed." I have failed? How? Just because I didn't produce what that
pompous, over zealous, asshole wanted, I have failed? I don't think so.
I think some teacher that I pay the salary for just told me that my work
isn't worth shit. Why did I even bother doing anything at all?
       Class is wrapping up and I am cool, calm, and collected. I get up
from my seat and walk towards him. He's done with class, happy as a lark.
I take out my paper and hold it in my hand. He slowly turns around and I
say to him, "Why?" He asks me "Why what?" I shake the paper in front of
his face. He says "Oh that!" I think to myself, "Yes, this you asshole,
how can you just give someone an "F" and forget about it so quickly." The
anger is back. He begins to tell me how "my group gave no indication that
I did any work, plus my lecture did not show him that I had read the
material  and that my notes on other works of the particular author were
of no relevance to the class." "You were supposed to talk about the style
of the story" he says, "but I spoke on the style of the author as a whole,
did hours of research and I deserve an F?"
        I am trying to control myself, but it is getting harder as he makes
claims that I had not even read the five page story in the book and that I
was lecturing from "another story I had read in another class." Fuck him, I
had never even heard of this shitty author before I was forced to do this
assignment. I try to reason with him, "perhaps I misunderstood you when you
said we were supposed to teach the class about the author", he snidely
replies "yes, you were, but with the story that is in our book."
        He then begins packing up all of his papers into his briefcase and
prepares to leave the classroom. Where the fuck is he going? I'm not done
talking to him! He walks out and I follow behind him still stating my case
"I did do research on the author and that counts for nothing?" He maintains
his point about me not "conveying that I had read the story." So I get an
"F", a "zero" for the assignment because he feels that I did not read the
story. I reassure him that I did read the story, as well as other stories by
the same author. He simply repeats what he had said before and picks up his
pace as we are walking towards his office.
        I try again to reason with him, "but what you are telling me with
this grade is that I did nothing, that I should not have even shown up?" He
turns to me and says , "Look, I am just going to say what I have said before
so I am not going to say it." Well, isn't that considerate of him. He turns
and goes into his office, I don't follow. Again, I wonder why I let this
happen, why don't I just say "look, fuck you, I don't give a shit what you
think, I did the reading and you are wrong for giving me an 'F'?" It's
probably because I have my final coming up and I fear that he will give
me an "F" on that too.
        Why am I forced to live out my educational career in fear and
powerlessness? Do I not pay for this shit? Are they paying me to attend? At
least in high school I wasn't paying twenty thousand dollars a year to take
shit from egomaniacs that couldn't get a real job if their life depended on
it so they went into teaching. I think I'll just quit school and take one of
the job offers I've received, why do I need this frustration? And people ask
me why I am going gray at 23.

-Tersian


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