Wednesday— My stroll through the high school’s bathrooms this morning was met with the sounds of a flood of tears. Tears even more hopeless than Mr. Stanley Hill trying to tell witness theater kids to stand further back in the spotlight so they’d be lit up properly. This could mean only one of one thing: third quarter grades had been released. Thankfully for all of us, it was the latter. That’s right, this morning, as teachers handed out report cards, students’ naive hopes that participation would actually impact their grades was shattered.
James Cross ’20 reportedly let out a shout of anger that scared his advising peers when he first saw his English grade. “Dr. Twitchell said my quiz wouldn’t hurt my grade that much, but clearly it did!” exclaimed the distraught sophomore. “And an O in participation clearly didn’t help. I don’t even know what the point is anymore…” Mr. Cross’ voice trailed off as he questioned how he’d find the strength to power through the final months of school.
By Ad Hoc, the sophomore had picked his head up and decided to confront his problem. Nervously walking into the bustling English office, he felt the heat of the entire English departments gaze as he attempted to nonchalantly shuffle to Dr. Twitchell’s desk. “Can we talk?” asked a quiet Mr. Cross. “Sure. What’s up?” replied the veteran teacher who clearly had seen this conversation play out before. Was she really not going to even leave her desk or find a bench in the hallway to talk. No, Dr. Twitchell was here to play hardball, and if Mr. Cross wanted to complain, he’d have to do it in front of the entire office. But James wasn’t ready to give in just yet. “Can we find somewhere outside?” asked a more assertive Mr. Cross. “If you insist.” James had called her bluff, the game was on.
“What’s up, James?” Dr. Twitchell knew exactly where this was going. James could see it in her eyes as he launched into the 100% definitely-going-to-change-her-mind speech he’d been practicing in his head since he first saw his report card this morning. “Well, as you know, I really love this class and was a little disappointed with my third quarter grade… I know we talked about that one bad quiz earlier. I was really hoping it wouldn’t affect my grade as much as it seems to have.” Dr. Twitchell remained unfazed, and even let the beginnings of a grin spread across her face. “You know what James, don’t worry about it. It’ll all work out fine.” Mr. Cross, filled with naive hope, replied, “thanks Dr. Twitchell” before walking away from the bench, praying that his teacher wasn’t heading the same way as him.
“Don’t worry” James repeated to himself. “It’s all going to be okay!” It was not…