Category: Writers Block
“and, because our united states is a democracy, we are able to have wider more insured freedoms available to us, such as those listed in the bill of rights which we’re going to take the majority of class today looking at. So, I want everyone to go to page 158 in your textbook,” Mrs. Millard instructed her Junior United States History class. The tall thin boy in the front rrow extended his hand in to the air and raised it above his head. He Unlike everyone else in the class didn’t bother to fetch and open his book which was sitting upon the corner of his desk. The Majority of the group, composed of 34 15 years old children had already promptly slid their thick textbook nearer to themselves. And opened their books and had flipped through the wrinkly pages with many folds in it, some of which were slightly ripped, to page 158. Mrs. Millard’s green eyes fixd themselves on the thin tall boys raised hand. This she thought couldn’t be all that interesting. It was just about two weeks in to the school year, and she’d already discovered Thomas’s sharp comments had a way of unnerving her and causing her to stress out. He always thought of himself as if he knew much more then herself, mrs, millard thought trying to delay having to answer his inquiry by standing there motionlessly for a few seconds more and then a few more seconds after that.
“yes,Thomas,” she said slowly as if willing herself not to speak these words but they were propelling themselves out of her mouth anyway, she opted not to look at the boy directly in the eyes, they were unnerving. His big blue eyes wide, looking at her earnestly, gazing at her questioningly, as if he was searching her mind for answers, and then resenting her answer even without a word being said. He did not blink, his expression and the look was too businesslike and honest that she could not stand it. so she resolved to looking at his brown hair, only pretending that she made every effort in attempting to look in to his eyes but couldn’t seem to.
Thomas asked interestedly, “If I am correct, and you can correct me if I am wrong, but, I think, the United States is a republic, not a democracy, and, the bill of writes were their to protect the people based on the enlightenment philosophy, so that what happened to the United states colony as we did learn in the past two weeks, would never happen again, the tyranny of the British empire that is. I don’t think democracy had and has anything to do with it, and since then up until the present most things has to be matched up to the constitution, and appended or rather amended to the end, no matter how loosely we’ve come to interpret the constitution. And,isn’t it true that the constitution if nothing else has made us more democratic, not the other way around?” Some students were now becoming restless, and were whispering away to their fellow classmates sitting relatively close to them. A few were bent forward whispering to people a little further up, some were turned around in their seats whispering either to others a few seats away, or else behind them. Mrs. Milard raised her eyebrows, obviously not pleased. She knew that Thomas liked to challenge her on what she said, as if testing how much she knew as if he thought she was rather incompetent. She thought, maybe this time it wouldn’t be, only to find out it was. Alas, she was so naïve. She turned away, from him, thinking maybe ignoring him might do the trick and pretend to be appear busy. Thomas stared opened mouthed at her, his blue eyes getting wider and wider bewildered at her behavior. No one in the class was working now. Many of them were now openly whispering while looking intently and interestedly, watching the interaction between Thomas and mrs. Millard.
“”Don’t you think, it is more productive for you to do your work, and read the pages I’ve put on the board?” She snapped angrily at him after wheeling around after a couple minutes of obvious annoyance at all the whispering in the cclass. She was going to open her mouth and snap at the class as a whole, to be quiet and do their work. When she whirled about the first thing she saw was thomas’s eyes still on her. This sent creeps up her spine, and that’s when she opened her mouth and snapped at him.
“no, I’ve read the chapter, Mrs, Millard, I find it infuriatingly questionable, and, I don’t think I want to waste my time on it. I have told you y, and have named on which principle I find the chapter to be making an error on, and, only the chapter drags on in this way, assuming these incorrect premises,” He said calmly, patiently, as if they were merely talking about an issue with the content of the book and Mrs. Millard was agreeing with him. This got her blood to boil, and her face to go very red, and becoming redder by the minute.
“you don’t challenge a teacher, like that! I don’t like yelling, so I expect you to behave yourself! That’s not even right hat you’re even doing! Don’t you understand how disrespectful you’re being? Now I want to talk to you after class young man!” she exploded. She was saying these words at the top of her lungs, her voice projecting around the room, echoing off the walls and in to the neighboring classrooms. She huffily turned to the whiteboard and grabbed up a fat marker aggressively. wrenching off the cap and literally threw the cap back on to the tray under the whiteboard. She wrote on the board almost too hard with the felt tip of the marker, holding the body and pressed it ton the whiteboard as to punish the marker as if the marker did her wrong. She wrote 158-174. She reached down tograb the cap and capped the marker and threw it angrily and quicly back in to the tray that held the rest of the markers. She turned haughtily back to the now curiously watchful class.
“We were originally going to do a group exercise earlier, but now we’re not going to read the chapter and do the exercises that is in there. What you don’t finish is homework,” she said angrily and still quite loudly, as if the rest of the class did her wrong as well just by being present, “No, talking.” She marched angrily to her computer desk and sat down in the chair, now atching them, daring just one student to make that one sound. No one did, they all now flipped to the chapter and started to read, except for Thomas who opened the book, but didn’t quite flip to the correct page nor did he read. Instead Thomas stared at the page as if there was something particular and interesting on it.