Spanish class and Profe

For two years in high school I took Spanish classes. I don't think I could string together a sentence then and I sure as hell can't do it now. Just no way. But I love to talk in class and I find it horrific when my lack of vocabulary stems my annoyance factor. Spanish I consisted of learning a bunch of random words and present tense conjugation for verbs, we didn't work with past, future, past participle, or future participle, or back to the future verbs. We learned the basic phrases: Who are you? Who am I? What's that? Where is the bathroom? This is my favorite, and Run it's the police!

Okay, so we didn't actually learn that last phrase, but it would have been awesome.

My teacher, who we all called Profe, was one of my favorite high school teachers. He is just awesome, best teacher ever. At least as far as language teachers go. By the time I got around to taking Spanish II he expected us to speak only Spanish during the class period. I think he had ridiculously high expectations. Who actually learns anything in high school? Nobody.

Anyway. I didn't know a lick of Spanish, which effectively kept me from speaking very loud in class. I would say I was completely silent, but we both know that would be a lie. I can't keep silent for more than two minutes. This constantly got me in trouble in class, Profe was always snapping at me to keep it down and to only talk in Spanish. Unfortunately, the times he told me this in Spanish it wasn't very effective. His scowl, however, worked like a charm. That man could glare like a Southern Belle. (don't ever quote me on that. I will deny it).

One day I decide to take pity on poor Profe and speak only in Spanish. I repeated the same word, over and over and over again. I think I kept up a slight rap for several minutes before he told me to stop saying that word. I think it was very, muy? Or something like that. Well he only told me to stop saying that word. So I moved on to a different word, only this time I was saying it to my friend sitting next to me. Now instead of me just repeating a word, it was a one worded conversation. I would say the word then she would, then me, then her.

Profe did not find this anymore amusing. By the end of the class period he sternly lectured me that only saying one word did not constitute a conversation and that if I wanted to speak at all in class it could only be in coherent conversation style. I was the only student who had to follow that particular rule. *sniff*

Yeah. I was a little brat in high school. Still am.

Also, it's almost Halloween. Cheers


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