With me, every school day is Chradical!

My father! He carved a (admittedly pretty cool) tatoo in my back when I was just 6, creating a (admittedly pretty cool) separate personality in my psyche!

There was once a Teacher who tried to make me do work, can you believe the nerve?

Okay. Here's some context: I'm a French high school student, and as some of you may guess, my English is effin' good. I have an English teacher, and she's... She's bad. She has a weird accent from some ex-USSR country, and... Okay, that's not THAT bad. The thing is that her english is bad. Like, very, very bad. She's just... Bad. Even those in my class that ARE bad at english are better. You know what's worse? Apparently, she's replacing an American teacher that everyone loved.

My French Midde School teacher, Miss Bonas. The only teacher who has ever sent me out of a lesson. The reason she did is because I was running the back of my pen up and down a French dictionary which she thought I was drawing on and then I blinked at her and she thought I was rolling my eyes at her. Thankfully, I didn't have to deal with her that often because she was off half of every year on maternity leave.

Sixth/Seventh grade math teacher, Mr. A. I never had him myself, but he was a demon. Once gave a kid a detention because he looked at the clock. My little sister had him, and she got three lunch detentions that year for stupid shit.

My fucking Kindergarten music teacher, who was on lunch duty, took my lunchbox away from me because I wasn't eating my sandwich.