[ON HOLD] 36 Students in a Classroom

13. Okay, I think it's time to throw out the lunchbox.

          13. THE SHY ONE

I think there are two types of Shyas [pronounced “SHY-a” like Shia LaBeouf’s name] in my class.

The first one is one of those girls you just get embarrassed for, or just feel sorry for from time to time. One of those girls that don’t actually act shy in the beginning, but once they step in front of a crowd, they’re shaking like they’re in a Shakira music video.

Except it’s more than their hips that are shaking.

No, these girls might as well be having a seizure right there in the front of the classroom.

And when you’re in the audience you just feel so bad for this person that you want to help her. Or just give her an A for the effort and tell her to calm down and have a milkshake.

Because this is what happens,

“Um . . . I—I did my report o—on—on . . . on the, um.”

And you can’t see her face because the paper she’s reading from has just become her new wall to hide behind, and she’s shifting from one foot to the other so fast that it literally looks like she’s playing hopscotch with herself.

I wouldn’t have been surprised if some random third-graders showed up and drew the hopscotch board on the classroom floor while Barney came in and started singing. That could’ve happened. And I don’t even think the teacher would’ve paid attention.

Meanwhile, I’m sitting in my desk, just wanting to go up there and read the freaking paper for her.

Or get Morgan Freeman to do it.

Because Morgan Freeman would probably get her an A.

And I mean it’s so frustrating sometimes, because the people watching the poor girl try to speak are stuck between wanting to yell at her to speed it up and wanting to help her because they feel bad.

And then, of course, there are the idiots that are dying laughing at this poor girl.

I personally get extremely annoyed when people do this.

So once, when this happened to Shya #1 in my class, I turned around, gave the boys (yes, they were boys) a death glare, and watched them see my face and stop laughing.

Then after the report was finished and we were free to talk because the teacher left the room, the guys started making jokes about her and they were laughing again.

So I walked up to them, and went,

“Haha, ahahaha, so what are we laughing about guys?”

And they just gave me this go away look. But I wasn’t finished yet.

“Oh, okay, well now that we’ve stopped laughing, I was wondering, did you guys know that when you laugh at someone while they’re trying to present it’s actually considered really rude?”

They smirked, and then I went, “Oh, so you did know. Okay. Well, I think if you guys laugh at someone again while they’re trying to present something and they didn’t tell a joke, I am going to laugh at you, when you so much as stumble over a simple word like ‘chocolate’, and I am going to laugh so hard that wherever your mothers are, they will hear me, think you’re getting bullied, and sign you up for speech therapy classes. And then you’ll be stuck with Mr. Edwards, an old man who can’t read without his glasses, trying to teach you second grade English, very, very, very slowly, until you graduate.”

And then the teacher walked in, and I smiled and went, “Yeah so, um, have a nice day!”

That’s a moment I am proud to say, I went Phakie on them.