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Senior High School Memoirs 3 (Records of the resentment between teachers and students)

I asked myself that in high school, I could be regarded as keeping myself in peace. Although I had never done a good thing to win honor for my class, I must have never made a big mistake that would make teachers lose face, there are occasional small mistakes such as being late, which should be made by everyone. Speaking of making mistakes, in our class, the top ten teachers hold back and make some small mistakes. The last ten teachers are the nails in the eyes of the teachers. If they catch a little tail, they will die. They will cooperate obediently, forget it for once. I have a little temper. I will always wear small shoes from now on unless my parents give him a red envelope. In fact, it was not a big deal either. He just made it earthshaking. For a long time, my grades were moderate and impartial, which was regarded as the golden mean. Although it is not the treasure held by the head teacher, it is not the last ten. It should be able to live in peace and stability. In this way, my father didn’t care about my mother and didn’t love her. I was happy at leisure, but I was destined to be the head teacher of our high school. As mentioned before, our head teacher loves face and honors very much. He has to compete for the first place in everything, including average score, sports competition ranking, chorus competition ranking, tug-of-war competition ranking, and even the total donations, of course, it depends on our cooperation first. To put it bluntly, it is workaholism, which is to cultivate the quality of our overall development. To put it bluntly, it is a little psychological distortion, and even a little enjoyable to torture students. Now think about it, this thing is muddled. I don’t seem to be stiff with the head teacher. Imagine that I am stiff with the head teacher, and I am stared at by him every day. I also find my fault from time to time, I am not a sage, and I also care about others’ opinions, which will affect my study and life. At first, I am greeted each other kindly and read books for so many years, which could be done. Instead, he always ignored it. I don’t care anymore. Anyway, my etiquette is here, and the one without quality is not me. Later, an inexplicable thing even tore up the last trace of harmony on the surface. On that day, the activity class was the last class in the afternoon, and I could go back after class. Everything in our class was grasped, and the activity class was also held by the head teacher to go to long-distance running. My favorite badminton had never been touched several times. This is also for the sake of our physical quality, he may be afraid that some students will not go back to do homework and stare at us, which is understandable. After class, I went home as usual. After dinner, it was almost time to go to night lessons. When I was about to go out, the phone rang and answered. The other end of the phone said angrily: I told everyone to go back to the classroom to concentrate on the activity class this afternoon. Why didn’t you go? I stayed for two seconds. The first second was to confirm the identity of the caller, and the second was to confirm what was said on the phone. After the reaction, my brain was buzzing. I don’t know whether my ears betrayed me or my brain was squeezed by the door, but I swear I really didn’t mean it. Of course, my first reaction was to admit my mistake and then explain it a little bit, because I think this matter can be said clearly. However, the other side didn’t accept my apology and explanation, and said directly: you don’t have to come to night self-study at night, and it will be in the future! I was still wondering how to say the answer, so I heard a long sigh on the phone. First numb, then sober, then confused. I am confused, why does this involve night self-study? Why is this punishment so strange? As a senior high school student, it is natural for me to take part in the night self-study, and I have been studying quietly since I was in the classroom, without even talking. Maybe, I think the head teacher is joking, maybe, because of the unconvinced nature, I still went resolutely. But when I was reading a book, I was interrupted by an unrequited baritone: What are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you not to come? At that time, I didn’t know how to answer. I said falsely: I didn’t break the rules of night self-study. I just went out for me! The colder voice didn’t allow me to finish, let alone any refutation. There were pairs of unknown eyes floating around, either ridicule or sympathy. The wind flew by my ears, and my heart was full of pain. Tears swirled in my eyes, blurring my sight. And I held back. I can’t cry! He stood beside me for a long time, and finally left. I thought it was over, but I didn’t expect that the morning meeting class of the next day not only revealed my scar, but also spread salt and pepper on it. As usual, we waited quietly for the teacher in charge to host the ceremony. As soon as he came in, the book was put on the desk and glanced at the whole class. He began to talk with a little ridicule without any hesitation, last night, there was a girl in our class. I told her not to come to night self-study, but she insisted on coming. Later I told her to go out, but she couldn’t leave with a pedantic face. I really had no choice but to take her. If I Were a Boy, I would directly take him away, but it was a girl. I didn’t pull or pull him. I have to let her go. After saying that, he gave me a contemptuous glance. A few seconds later, my classmates burst into laughter, and I tried to make myself as if nothing had happened. I don’t know whether they are laughing at the tone of the head teacher or me, a shameless girl. But no matter the former or the latter, for me, the laughter was even sharper than a knife, which was deeply rooted in my heart and didn’t let me pull it out. I was stunned until the morning meeting class was over. However, the irony has been satirized and the smile is enough, but the matter is not over yet. He walked next to me again and said coldly: sit in the last row for me immediately. I am a girl who is not tall and has a myopia of 400 degrees. I didn’t make any big mistakes. Let me sit in the last row. Is this the decision that should be made as a teacher! I can’t bear it any more, why? I won’t go, I’m short, I’m myopic, I can’t see clearly. Maybe he saw that his statement was untenable, and he was extremely proud of face, so he turned the spearhead and said to my deskmate: You also sit back together. My Deskmate was wronged, but he also stood up to resist. It’s none of my business. Why should I go. After a while, he left a sentence, you should be careful in the future, don’t commit crimes. Then he pressed his stomach and left. My psychological defense line finally collapsed. I cried and didn’t hide any more. I cried out of grievance and resentment. After that, he never asked me to answer the question in class. I feel like a tiger accompanying you at school. Occasionally, he found a piece of waste paper under my feet before he could pick it up, so he would scold me for being ashamed. After being late for a few minutes, I was not allowed to enter the classroom (treating me equally was regarded as the class rule, but it was not the case with others). For three years, it’s not too short to say it’s short. You can’t keep doing this. There was no way out. My father asked someone to invite him out, drink wine, eat food, send gifts, and use all the material power that can be used to make me take off that pair of small shoes. 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