Chapter 5 How to Destroy a New Teacher

How To Destroy a New Teacher

Being at an international school I used to think that there was such a variety of perspectives because of all the students from around the world. We had many students who were Japanese, Taiwanese and American. When I listened to their thoughts, however, I found that they were mostly the same. They were all jealous, ambitious and driven to satisfy their own needs. The teachers, I found were struggling to contain this but the next voice I heard made their lives even more difficult. You see, some of these kids were basically trying to get them fired or worse. One kid had basically written a guidebook on how to do it all. He called it: How to destroy a new teacher and I hooked onto his thoughts while he was finishing his sick manifesto. These are his thoughts:

Now some kids might think it’s easy to make a new teacher burst into tears on their first week. Most of them come in quite nervous, and they are usually young and fresh out of university. They make silly mistakes like turning their back to us, ignoring us when we want attention, and, the most common, trying to act cool and interested in what we like. These teachers provide no challenge for me. I destroy them in days, sometimes even in hours.

First, I get everyone to hate them, then I drive them crazy, and then they either quit or transfer to another school. But there are some teachers who have this unbreakable positivity about them. It sickens me when these types come into my classroom smiling and trying to brainwash everybody into thinking they are super cool. These so-called good teachers make kids believe that they care about their future, and never get angry or upset at bad behavior. I have made it my mission at school to destroy especially the best teachers. It is my primary goal to get them all to quit and leave us in peace.

So now I’m going to tell you how I completely destroyed possibly one of the best teachers enter our school. I’m telling you this so you can learn the way, too. Let us make the classroom ours! Hey, why not make the whole school ours. Teachers don’t care about us; they are only here because they couldn’t get any other jobs and the holidays are good.

First Step: make everyone hate them Mr. Yamaguchi was that teacher. He came into our class for the first time on a Friday morning, which, of course, meant he had it tough from the beginning. On Friday mornings, we were at our worst. We were all excited about the weekend and couldn’t wait until the day ended. I was doing the usual: making paper airplanes out of everybody’s homework and throwing them up into the fan, which I turned up to full speed. Great fun! And it’s a bonus when it makes some nerdy girl, who actually cares about doing homework, cry. That Friday was a great success because I managed to snatch tiny little Cindy Wong’s creative-writing homework and throw it up into the fan too. It must have been a masterpiece of a poem because when it came falling down in little pieces over her perfect little piggy-tails she started squealing like a baby. She stopped crying as soon as Mr. Yamaguchi stepped into the classroom. He already looked like he had a plan for me, so calm was his demeanor.

He went straight to Cindy Wong, and said, 'Good morning, I’m Mr. Yamaguchi.'

He picked up the pieces of her homework so fast I couldn’t see his hands move. 'I can put this back together at lunch don’t worry, I have this cool, new, contact machine in the staff room just for these occasions.'

Cindy Wong smiled and wiped her face. She looked up at him.

'Oh good. It’s my poem, it took me ages to write. Oh sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Cindy Wong.' She even bowed, probably thinking it would get her ahead, seeing as Mr. Yamaguchi was Japanese.

He turned to me, still calm, and said, 'I can tell straight away what sport you play.'

I sighed. This was his attempt to become my buddy. No teacher had succeeded previously, so he was fighting a battle he couldn’t win. He had already singled me out as a target, a problem child. So, this was his way to remedy the problem. The so-called good teachers tried to be your friend. With me, it never worked, though; I don’t want to be friends with a teacher, we are way too different.

We will never truly understand each other, and that’s how it always should be.

I snarled in my most offensive angry voice, 'Oh yeah, what?'

'You play basketball!' he said smiling. 'Am I right?'

He was right. I replied, 'Wow, good guess!'

But anyone could have guessed basketball, seeing as I was at least a foot taller than anyone else in the class.

He said, 'Don’t tell me you like Kobe and the Lakers, I hate

them!'

Right again, and I already hated him. Big deal, half the kids that played on the basketball team followed the Los Angeles Lakers, they were then the most popular NBA team in the world. Nice try, but that kind of lame attempt to fake an interest in what I like would never work. However, he had some of the class interested already. Some kids were gathered around us waiting for Mr. Yamaguchi to say something next. He started rubbing his head and humming, trying to be funny.

Some of the girls laughed. Pointing to me, he said, 'You’re the point guard of the 7th-grade team! Am I right?'

I nodded. Yes, he was right . . . again. There are only five positions on a basketball team anyway. 'Lucky guess,' I muttered.

'Yes.'

Then he started laughing and pulled the school newsletter from out of his briefcase. He turned around showing the class a photo of me scoring a lay-up.

'No,' he said, 'I was faking it the whole time. I just read the newsletter. Great work Jung Wei, scoring twenty-one points!' He clapped and gestured for everyone else to clap with him. 'My high school career high was a measly nineteen so you’re already better than me at age thirteen!'

This had the class talking and laughing. It was sickening. But he got my age wrong. I was twelve. I had a chance to attack.

I muttered, 'I’m still twelve. Where can we find a teacher’s newsletter, so we can find out how lame you really are!'

My friend and partner, Jimmy, let out an 'Ow!' for extra impact.

This Mr. Yamaguchi was never going to be my friend. Trying to be funny on his first day wasn’t going to change a thing. He had some of the girls on his side already, so we had to work quickly.

On the first day, he already had everyone convinced that he was a good teacher. We spent the whole day playing his so-called educational activities, which everyone except for me and Jimmy

enjoyed.

I tried my best to get the nerds on my side. It was a tactic that had worked many times in the past: I shouted out, 'Sir, I’m sure this hasn’t got anything to do with our exams that are coming up soon. . . . What a waste of time; shouldn’t we be doing some real work?!'

But Mr. Yamaguchi was gaining the upper hand. No one was listening to my complaints. They were too busy having fun, competing in the new activities that Mr. Yamaguchi had set up.

This guy was a fresh, new face in the classroom, and too good-looking for me to get most of the girls onto my side. They were already looking at him strangely. Cindy Wong had even moved her desk up to the front to be closer to him.

During the week Mr. Yamaguchi continued his propaganda campaign of bribery and deceit. He had the girls convinced that every word he said was valuable, and the nerds were soon to follow. He had his World’s Best Student reward system that was getting everyone really motivated, apart from me and Jimmy, of course. Mr. Yamaguchi had made a huge chart with every student’s name on it. Everyone wanted another point under their name to go to their tally so that they could become World’s Best Student for the week. Surprise, surprise, Cindy Wong was leading the tally in the first week.

On the following Friday, everyone was really impressed when Mr. Yamaguchi presented Cindy Wong with an extra-large Snickers® bar. 'Now everyone give Cindy a round of applause!'

Everyone did, except Jimmy and me.

He upped the ante, 'Next week, the World’s Best Student will get two chocolates!'

This excited everyone, and even though I loved Snickers®, I didn’t want his prize. I knew he was trying to trick everyone. He was just bribing us to be quiet, so he could relax in his chair and do nothing. But I wasn’t getting much support in my protests. The classroom was growing quiet. Something had to be done.

Second Step: Create a false sense of hope

By the second week, I realized Mr. Yamaguchi was going to be very difficult to destroy. It would take quite some time and effort to bring him down. I knew I had to find a weakness, and time was running out. In a couple of months, he wouldn’t be a new teacher anymore, and the whole school would love him.

I got what I wanted the following week. After studying his every movement and listening to every detail, I discovered a weakness. You see, in history, we were studying the unit on feudal Japan. Mr. Yamaguchi, of course, being from Japan himself, had already gotten the class into Japanese history with stories of the violent wars between samurai.

I knew I had my chance to destroy him when he made the big mistake of bringing in something wrapped in black silk with silver Japanese characters on it.

He had everybody focused on it just by raising it above his head, and as he took the silk off, I knew straight away, that would be my big chance.

'This is a samurai sword from Kyoto!' he said. The sword gleamed from the rays of sunshine that streamed through the window.

Everyone was agape at the sight — me too. 'It is what samurai used to slice and stab   each other . . . to death!'

I knew straight away I needed that sword.

'Oh, I know what you are thinking,” he went on. “It’s too dangerous to bring to school, right? Wrong! The blade isn’t sharp at all. I had it ground down before I brought it here, of course. I can’t have you going around slicing each other to pieces, can I?”

The sword still gave me hope.

When he said, 'At the moment I can’t let any of you hold this sword for obvious reasons, but if I can gain your trust, I’ll be happy to lend it to a student. In fact, I want the next World’s Best Student to take care of the sword for a whole day!'.

My hopes doubled. He had given me the perfect plan, but I had to be the next World’s Best Student to get that sword. This, however, was easier said than done. It would take a whole lot of faking and sucking-up to get my hands on that sword. But I was prepared to do anything in order to complete my mission. I would never give up.

Third Step: Deceive and destroy!

The next day I straightened up my tie for the first time before school. I informed Jimmy of my plans and assigned him a task. He loyally supported and agreed with my idea. Before even entering the classroom, I stopped outside and bowed to Mr. Yamaguchi. He greeted my bow with a calm smile.

Ever so formally, I said good morning to him, 'Ohayoo gozaimasu.'

This surprised him. The night before I had memorized some basic Japanese phrases. This would help me rise to the World’s Best Student. I wasn’t an unintelligent student. I could remember anything if I really needed to. In fact, I did well in class when I wanted to, and it was then that I needed to reveal to Mr.Yamaguchi my hidden talents.

That week wasn’t easy at all. It required a lot of fake smiles, raising my hand, waiting (which I could never do well before), cooperating with students I really hated, especially Cindy Wong, and doing some schoolwork.

My hands were tired from writing. My eyes were sore from reading. Even my cheeks were aching from putting on a constant smile for Mr. Yamaguchi, but it was all worth it. He was taking the bait. I noticed him putting more and more points next to my name.

Gradually the points added up as I gained confidence and got used to faking it. Soon I was leading the class.

That Wednesday, Mr. Yamaguchi whispered to me, I think you’re a shoo-in for the World’s Best Student this week, Jung Wei. Keep it up!' And he nudged me on the shoulder.

I gave him a real smile, and replied in Japanese, 'Arigato gozaimasu,' to impress him even more. On Thursday, we put our plan into full force. I had been staying up every night until at least 3:00 a.m. studying Japanese and samurai history. I came across the perfect information just in time. Thursday morning, Jimmy and I had started our performance just before we knew Mr. Yamaguchi would arrive. We danced around the room swinging imaginary swords, shouting Japanese at each other. The other kids thought we were crazy. When Mr. Yamaguchi opened the door; we made our move.

'Ouch!' I yelled grabbing my wrist. 'You sliced my hand off!'

Jimmy then bowed to me to show respect, 'I must die honorably. Please allow me to commit seppuku?'

Jimmy replied, 'Hai!'

Then I saw Mr. Yamaguchi smile as I reenacted seppuku—I stabbed the imaginary sword into my stomach and fell to the ground with a convincing groan.

He clapped his hands and said, 'Yes, seppuku is a very honorable way to die for the samurai. Great performance, both of you!'

Coming back to life I sprung to my feet, 'Thank you, Mr.Yamaguchi. Can we study more about seppuku today please sir?'

His answer was crucial to my plan.

He remained calm as usual. 'I’m sure we’ll be able to fit something in. It’s a cool topic, so I’ll make time for it if everyone is well-behaved.'

So that day went on exactly how we planned it. Mr. Yamaguchi didn’t realize it, but he was being played. I was controlling the class, and I was choosing what was being learned. I just kept asking about samurai stuff, and he kept answering. When we were meant to be studying math, we talked about the number of samurai in Kyoto; when we were meant to be studying geography, we were looking at maps of ancient Japan and seeing which samurai controlled the most land. It was basically the day of the samurai. But most of all, we focused on the samurai’s honor. A samurai would prefer to die with honor than to have an enemy kill him. I thought this was cool, and, even though I hated Mr.Yamaguchi, I enjoyed the lesson and the information he gave us. Jimmy and I made sure to ask plenty of questions about stabbing and killing. We dragged the topic on with graphic descriptions of bloody battles and even ended up talking about seppuku for an hour. We went home that day making sure everything was ready. We whispered our plan on the bus, while we eagerly waited for   Friday morning. That night I prepared myself for my mission. I meditated in my room for hours just like a samurai would have before a battle.

Friday was the last day Mr. Yamaguchi taught our class. Our mission to destroy another so-called good teacher worked perfectly. Mr. Yamaguchi awarded me World’s Best Student that morning.

He looked proud and pleased. 'Well-done, Jung Wei, you’re the World’s Best Student this week. Plus seeing as you’re so, into the way of the samurai, I present to you: The Samurai Sword!'

Everybody applauded as he handed me the sword, still wrapped in its silk. He didn’t have a clue. I continued being a fake teacher’s pet by being extra nice to everyone in the class. I even helped Cindy Wong with her math homework. All that time The Samurai Sword sat safely under my desk until lunchtime.

At lunchtime, Jimmy did his duty, as a true friend should. You see he had written a fake letter saying he needed an hour off from school to go to the dentist. The forging of his mother’s signature had been perfected over the years, just for important times like this. Mr. Yamaguchi believed the letter. Jimmy also conveniently brought a huge gym bag to school that only had a basketball in it. At the beginning of lunch, he secretly put the sword in the gym bag and ran out of the class with the stealth of a ninja. He didn’t go to the dentist though, he went to the workshop room and met with three other students who will remain nameless. They got to work quickly, polishing and sharpening the sword. They were finished before the end of lunch. Just as we had planned, the sword, now fully sharpened, had been returned to my desk.

Mr. Yamaguchi walked back into the classroom to find everyone cheering. He smiled seeing me and Jimmy. I was a samurai and Jimmy was my enemy. I swung my sword and hit his arm. He let out a scream. The class fell silent. He punched me hard in the nose. I fell to the ground, defeated.

I then took the sword and yelled, 'I will commit Seppuku just like Mr. Yamaguchi taught us!' And with that, I stabbed the sword deep into my stomach.

More blood on the classroom floor. Kids screaming. Cindy Wong was crying like a baby — again. Pain. Yes, a lot of pain. I ran towards Mr. Yamaguchi, trying to give him a surprised look, which really wasn’t hard to do. Then everything went black.

I awoke in a hospital a day later to see my mum looking worried, hovering over me. My stomach had a huge white bandage over it, and it hurt like hell.

She smiled, 'Oh thank goodness you’re okay.'

I struggled to ask her, 'But what happened to Mr. Yamaguchi?'

Her answer made me so happy that I forgot all about the pain in my stomach. She looked at me and frowned. 'You won’t be seeing that awful teacher again. He has been fired. Fancy bringing a dangerous weapon to school, and what was he teaching you? How to kill yourself? I hope he gets jail time for what he did to you!'

And that was all she needed to say. I closed my eyes; smiling as I listened to her complain about the school. She mentioned all the other teachers I had destroyed, but I wasn’t really listening. My mission was accomplished. Another so-called good teacher was gone, and it was all because of me. I was willing to do anything to get rid of him. The class was mine again!

Bring on the next new teacher to destroy!

I felt like I had been in a nightmare the whole time. I decided I would email the principal right away. I got my laptop and wrote this:

Dear Principle Wang,

A teacher Mr. Yamaguchi has been fired because a student had planned and deceived him and you. I will not name the student, but I feel you must investigate the class and call Mr. Yamaguchi and one student who has tricked him. If you want evidence, I can provide evidence.

I was about to press send when the voice returned

If you send that email, you will damage the fate of the boy, which has already been set in stone. Do not attempt to change the natural path of a single individual. You will disrupt my work and I will be forced to take immediate action. You have been warned.

That wasn’t as scary as before. I wasn’t afraid of that voice anymore. I wasn’t going to listen to it. I hit send and waited for him to creep into my head again. I sat there, motionless, listening to the rain dripping off the window. Minutes passed by, then hours. Nothing. However, later, the voice came back and I finally understood how serious his threats were.