MISS HEPNER RUINED MY LIFE!!!

Today during a meeting, I had a fleeting thought that turned into a serious diversion in my attention. I though to myself, "Tyler, you ol' chap, you don't remember how to write in cursive anymore do you?" Sure enough the answer was 'no.' SO, I grabbed my pen determined to write out the alphabet in all cursive lower-case letters. I had to stop and think about 'f' and 'j' but got through them and was almost home free until I got to the letter 'v.' Still have no clue how that's supposed to look. Anyways, I got to thinking about when was the last time I had to write in cursive. Turns out it hasn't been a requirement since sixth grade English class with Miss Hepner. Yes, "Miss" Hepner...and if you say 'mrs.,' then you are in serious trouble. So here's the rundown on how this woman ruined my life.

First of all, she was a grammar freak. If you have known anyone like this, then you know any normal coversation with this type of person could turn into something that makes a normal person want to drown puppies. In sixth grade tests were often graded in class a day or two after the test was initially taken (due to teacher laziness). It was standard proceedure then for anyone who had not yet taken the test to go to a different classroom and work while the test was graded. If you walked into Miss Hepner's class and asked, "Can I sit in your class and work until our tests are graded," this vile woman would correct you on the spot in front of her entire disgruntled class. She'd say, "No, the correct way to say it is, 'May I sit in your classroom and work.' Then she'd dismiss the student to find a different class to work in. It was like a password, if you didn't get it right the first time, she'd send you somewhere else. After half the year was over, she'd get tired of correcting, so it would go something like this...

knock, knock, knock

"Um, can I sit in your class and work?"

"I don't know, can you?"

"um, I mean, may I sit in your class and work?"

"no you may not."

talk about rediculous. Sure it taught the students a lesson, but only at the cost of utter humiliation and ridicule. I am not sure if most of those student recovered.

Miss Hepner was mean. She would yell at us, and kind of make us feel dumb. She was very strict, and the only students she liked were the few socially-retarted, super-smart girls who got straight A's despite all her best efforts to pound us into academic submission. this is a running theme throughout this post.

Miss Hepner was the only teacher who actually made her P.E. class do square dancing. You think getting picked last in dodgeball is bad, try getting picked last in dancing. It was bad enough that an awkward teenage boy had to pick out and equally awkward teenage girl, but to have to hold hands, dance, and worry about getting picked last might be too much for their little minds to take. Luckily, I was never cast as a student in one of her P.E. classes. No, just English for me.

Miss Hepner never understood sixth graders or their odd sense of humor [read: my sense of humor]. One time one of the previously mentioned super smart females [named Shelby Wahl] came walking into English class after just completeing a 50min. PE class. Given the nature of this type of student, she was predictably carrying every single book she owned in her arms. Because she had rushed to get to class [early] she hadn't had time to put her shoes all the way on, and walked in with her feet half in her boots and her heels sticking out the backs. Miss Hepner exclaimed, "Don't anyone trip her now." I thought, "What a great idea, then, to pretend to trip her!" So as she walked by, I stuck out my foot to pretend to trip her in light of the command not to. Unfortunately, I didn't quite have the reflexes I thought I did, and it didn't help that Shelby was walking all funny because her shoes weren't on correctly. Down she tumbled in a glorious mess of hard-cover books and notes and pens. Despite my best efforts to explain to Miss Hepner that I never actually intended to trip Shelby and that I was merely pretending but fouled it up miserably, she didn't buy it. Got in trouble for that one.

Another example of Miss Hepner not understanding sixth graders and their odd sense of humor is in the case of this prank: a student was walking down the hall in front of me, and his back pack was wide open. He had simply forgotten to zip it up, and you could see what class he was either going to or coming from. I thought it would be funny to snatch a notebook out of his folder and then give it to him claiming that I'd found it lying on the ground; thus making me the hero...mostly I was just bored and wanted to mess around. It would have been a great little prank had we not been simultaneously walking by the door of Miss Hepner's class. As soon as I grabbed the notebook, she grabbed my arm and yanked me out of the flow of traffic. She made me give the notebook back [which I intended to do anyways] and apologize for stealing. Then she gave me a lecture about stealing, and just as before, she simply wouldn't accept my explanation that I wasn't really stealing it in the first place. Got in trouble for that one too.

Miss Hepner MADE us write in cursive. Thus we have come full circle. Of course I think that the reason that I don't write in cursive now, is because Miss Hepner never allowed me to blossom as a young writer and discover a passion for the cursive style. If she'd only given us freedom, we'd all have more elegant writing style.

also, she could tell that I never read my book on Beethoven considering I spelled his name wrong through the entire book report. whatever.