A little back story on this article. I first wrote this last semester about a kid that was in my class who I could not stand. Every class period, he would find a new way to offend me and drive me up the wall. Luckily, I had a saving grace in that class who understood my pain and vented with me (thanks, Karen!). One day, we had enough of the shenanigans and decided to take action, in a way we knew best. We wrote a letter. It was probably one of my favorite moments of that semester. Anyway, I thought this letter should see the light of day. Plus, he is in my class again and I am reminded again and again about his insightful comments. So thanks to Karen for writing this with me and reminding me of my passion for writing.
To the kid who thinks he knows everything in my class.
Where do I begin? Perhaps, it was the moment you said you would never marry because of how awful women are. Maybe it was when you said that there is systematic oppression against you, a white male. Maybe it’s the countless times you use big words just to show how much smarter you are. Maybe you’re compensating for something. Who knows? You always give your two cents, even when it’s way off base. And yes, you are entitled to your own opinion. But nobody wants to hear the same opinion each Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for three months. We get it. You have some serious issues and you like the sound of your voice. I don’t think the entire class is really that interested in your dating life or any other general topic you seem to bring up. You really think that you are actually smarter than most of us. And you have your followers. The seemingly persistent who seem to worship the ground you walk on. It consistently amazes me that someone has not smacked the sense into you. The more time I am forced to spend around you, the more I dislike basically everything you stand for. I don’t think we have ever agreed on anything. At all. I can see you now, five years down the road. Somehow, still single, sitting in some coffee shop (or an equivalent) working on your totally amazing screenplay/novel/poems/any type of creative work. You say to yourself that you are ahead of your time. These fat cats don’t know anything about good literature. And then you will go home, alone, and preach to your five subscribers on Youtube about how the world is so against you. How I wish I could be as naïve as you. Here’s some advice from the play Hamilton. “Talk less. Smile more…. Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead.”
Sincerely,
Those who are actually systematically oppressed
