Prejudice And Racism

Everyday life was habitual. Waking up each Monday through Friday morning at six’ o’clock only to rush through yet another day at school, so that I could do what every other elementary boy, that I knew, wanted to do-play outside. But, little did I know my whole outlook on life would soon be changed for the better. It was another average day at elementary school. I was sitting in class bored out of my mind as usual, probably thinking about playing kickball or some other rudimentary subject while Mr. Parson gave another lecture on the fundamental subjects: Math, Science Geography, History, and Language. As usual, I would usually divulge myself into a good book, during the middle of class, at the most inopportune moments just to make the time pass a little faster. In my mind it did not really seem to matter much if I took a momentarily mental absence from class, seeing as I was an A student whom caught on quickly to everything taught. Too bad Mr. Parson and I did not see eye to eye on the matter. …show more content…
Parson and I had a good student teacher relationship. We usually got along. But he had this habit of walking down my aisle so that he could abruptly close my book. I loathed this, because the sudden crack of the book would sharply bring me back from my phantasm of my own world. Each and every time he did this we would go back and forth disputing why I couldn’t read in class, which usually ended with “ I’m going to call your mother.” This cycle must have gone on for what seemed like forever, but I was determined to win this war. Until one day when Mr. Parson decided to throw me a curve ball that would send me home