A couple of weeks ago, right before class, you announced that "everyone" was confused about what to study for an upcoming quiz. Really? "Everyone"? Well, most people, you conceded. I pointed out that your personal experience was all you could speak to with confidence, and "everyone" hadn't come to speak with me. You chuckled and conceded I might have a point, and you said that YOU were concerned about the quiz. We both had a lighthearted, friendly tone during this exchange. At the beginning of class, I reviewed briefly, then asked if there were any questions. One asked about how many questions there would be, but no one--including you--asked any questions about content.
Last week I handed out the description for a writing assignment. A student asked if I wanted citations. Of course, I replied. You asked "what if people don't know how to do that?" I replied that this is a college-level class and I expect college-level writing. You asked if a certain writing class was required. I said no. You said that it wasn't fair that I was expecting college-level writing, and that I couldn't do that. Now mind you, you said this in your usual tone of voice--you know, the laughy happy one in which you've always made jokes. Oh yes I can, I replied, also in a joking tone. Everyone chuckled, and we went on with class.
I got a call this week from my supervisor. You've apparently gone to three other administrators with a written complaint about my bullying you. I yell at you. I humiliate you in front of the entire class. I seek you out to pick on you. And to top it all off, I screamed at you the other day and then kicked you because you asked about citations. For two fucking handwritten pages you go on about how terrified you are, and that you have sought legal council. And that I should be removed from class while this is being investigated. You have also submitted an anonymous written report from an alleged classmate, who is so terrified of me that s/he wants to make sure you have support, but doesn't want to risk having hir name known for fear of becoming the brunt of my malevolence.
What. The. Fuck.
Are you off your meds?
I am blindsided by this. I thought we had a genial relationship. I have never misjudged a person the way I have apparently misjudged you. Two fucking pages of lies? To three administrators? A lawyer? Who's being the bully?
Fuck you you fucking fuck.
And even though I have the support of my administrators, I have this bad taste about the class I loved. Because deep down, I fear that I'm never doing a good enough job, that I'm not covering enough, and even though I've done this for years, I care deeply about this. So fuck you for rattling my confidence. Fuck you for being a snake. Fuck you for whatever bullshit attention you're seeking.
Oh, and please do come back to class. I guaran-fucking-tee you will be treated with the utmost of professionalism. And every. fucking. exchange we have will be documented. If you have questions for me, you will need to make an appointment to talk with me and my supervisor because I will never meet with you or speak to you one-on-one. If you're this big a fucking liar about things with witnesses, I'm taking no chances what you could fabricate if we meet alone.
And now, before I get too drunk to type, one last message: