Personal Narrative: My Difficult Class

When I think back on my years in middle school the difficult class was 8th grade social studies. It wasn’t difficult because I didn’t understand what we were learning, it was because of the teacher. Mr. Degroot was one of the most, if not the most, infuriating teachers I ever met. There are so many reasons why and I could go on for hours. He wasn’t even qualified to teach social studies! There were a lot of people involved. In fact, everyone in my grade who had to sit through his class. More specifically though, my fourth period. I don’t remember everyone who was in there but I remember a lot of my friends were. Eva, Rhenn, Ethan, Araina, Alissa, Nate, and Cami were all in my class. Eva and I had a lot of moments in that class. Sometime during …show more content…
Degroot was a weepy man. Almost everything triggered him to cry. If you even mention the word war he either full out cried or started a full out rant. If you ever compared anything to war, you better run because he would yell at you for a long time. For example, the saying ‘this is war’. He especially got mad if someone compared sports to war. He would say, “Sports are nothing like war. I wish war was that easy and non-bloody!” One time he showed us a video of a letter that a man wrote to his wife before going to war. He said afterwards, “Man that gets me every time.” How many times has he watched it, and why does he STILL …show more content…
Degroot freaks of course, tell and asking Mya that it’s important and that she should tell him what they represent. Eva was one of the people who verbally agreed with Mya. Eva told Mr. Degroot that beards represent social class. Mr. Degroot full out ignores her and goes on a rant and the summed-up version of this rant is basically that beards represent social class. Eva was right and he didn’t want to admit it. Mr. Degroot blames a lot of things on the war, like his hearing for example. I’m not sure he can blame his bad memory on that though, but what do I know about war? Every day he would say the same things and then ask us if he ever told us that. One of the examples of this was his daughter. He has a daughter who is a freshman. Last year she was in eighth grade (like we were) and he would tell us every day that his daughter was in eighth grade and she was a percussionist. My situation was an annoying one, and the only way I could escape it was to get out of the middle school. In fact, to this day I still see him occasionally because of school events. I guess the only real way to escape is to get out of Red Oak forever. That is, unless he leaves. That would be the day I would say