Dear Ms Brown

Image credit (edited by me): http://clipart-library.com

I can’t remember if you were Miss, Ms or Mrs and really, I don’t care. I saw such glowing reports about you from former students of Burleigh Heads State School and it was like they were talking about a different person to the one I knew.

I used to wonder what it was that you hated about me. I knew I was a bit too energetic, cheeky even. But I don’t think I deserved the constant disdain you doled out to me.

I remember all of that but what I remember the most is the day you deeply embarrassed and shamed me in front of the entire class.

I know it was not long after the lunch break when I needed to go to the toilet but seriously in grade five not many kids can piss on demand – I certainly couldn’t. I asked you for permission to go the toilet and you repeatedly said no. I asked you more than five fucking times and you still refused – knowing I was absolutely busting.

So I sat there in my chair and could no longer hold my bladder. So I pissed all over the chair, the floor and my book tray under the seat. Your shocked face, the kids gasps of shock burned into me. I got up and walked out of the classroom.

You went into damage control then didn’t you? You’d have to admit you had repeatedly refused a child to go to the toilet.

After walking out of that classroom I started the 3 km walk home. The school must have contacted my mum at work because she picked me up along the highway.

The seriously fucked up part about it all was that when I came back to school, the vice principle actually thought she was going to give me the paddle. Remember? The paddle was the girls version of the cane. When this woman (the vice principle) told me what she intended to do I told her that if she even tried to touch me I would smack her head in. She obviously believed me because that paddle never touched my body.

But what pissed me off even more is that you never apologised. You never acknowledged what you did. You had no idea what was going on in my home life. You had no idea of my sexual abuse and you had no idea that I had been wetting the bed. Wetting the bed made my dad so mad and made me feel ashamed of myself – and then you did the exact same thing at school.

What I have learned since then is things like that reflect you and your abilities as a teacher. Do you know what I remember learning in your classroom?Absolutely nothing except you were a fucking bitch.

But there were more of you to come – and I was more than ready to deal with your type.

You were a bully. I was becoming a bully’s nightmare.

Peace xx

Comment - remember your words reflect you...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.