Auntie SparkNotes: Profs Who Play Favorites

Dear Auntie Sparknotes,
I have an English teacher who insists on sharing individual grades with the whole class. He has a few select students that he gives 100s to on every assignment. While I am sure they deserve their grades, I just don't appreciate hearing about how amazing and intelligent they are after every assignment. Even though the rest of us do get As, he treats us like we are incompetent and stupid. He actually told me in front of the whole class that he had forgotten that I write well and was shocked that my essay even resembled a 100 paper.

My friends who do get the 100 papers are under the impression that they have some sort of superior intellect and that they are on a higher academic level than the rest of us. There is a lot of competition at my school and no one is afraid to resort to emotional sabotage. So, I constantly hear about how they are so amazing and talented and how it's really a shame that our teacher doesn't like me.

I really dread going to English everyday while it was a class that I used to love last year. A few of my classmates tried to talk to my English teacher about this problem last year, but to no avail. I really don't know what to do.

Ooooh, but I do. And Sparkler, get ready, because I'm about to smack you with a Reality Stick:

You're going to suck it up.

Yes, you are.

Not because this teacher's behavior is in any way okay. (It's not, and it's deeply unfair that any student has to put up with this sort of horse dookie just to get an education.) But the fact is, crappy teachers exist—as do crappy bosses, crappy coworkers, crappy in-laws, crappy academic advisors, and various and sundry other crappy human beings with whom any interaction carries a certain level of... well, crap.

And while it can occasionally be worthwhile to take these people on, often the smartest thing to do is just wait it out. And that's especially true here, when a) your contact with Crappy McCrapperton is set to expire in June, b) there's no permanent harm being done to your GPA, and c) it's transparently obvious that his behavior has absolutely nothing to do with your talent as an English student, and everything to do with his own bizarre issues. (Seriously, any adult who resorts to this sort of behavior just to cultivate favor among a bunch of high school students has myriad, deep-seated personal problems.)

Basically, you know this is not about you; you've got evidence galore that this is Just How Your Teacher Is, and that even direct intervention won't make him change the way he acts. And that gives you the perfect opening to decide, here and now, that you just aren't going to worry about it anymore. Your teacher is one person, with one opinion, and you know that said opinion is wrong. Which means that you are completely and totally within your rights to, the next time he starts announcing grades, think back on all his obnoxious behavior and favorite-playing foolishness and say, "Y'know what? F*** THIS GUY."

Well, I mean, don't say that out loud. But inside your head? Sing it, sister, because you don't need to play that game. In the immortal words of Eleanor Roosevelt, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent. Which means that you're free to opt out of not only your teacher's popularity contest, but also the petty, meaningless competition with a bunch of kids who believe that the opinion of one human being is all the evidence they need of their academic and intellectual superiority. (P.S. They'll find out soon enough that it's not!)

So from now on, ignore your friends' bragging (and if you want to respond, you can say something like, "Eh, it's his problem. I'm doing my best and I'm fine with that.") And more importantly, vow to wash your hands of this turkey of a teacher—and see if you don't feel instantly better for doing so. There's a beautiful, untouchable freedom in not giving a hoot. And ironically, once you've embraced indifference, you may even find yourself empowered to fight back.

Because when you don't care what someone thinks of you, it's a lot easier to meet his insults with a shrug, a smile, and an "I can't believe you actually think it's okay to say something like that out loud."

Got your own crappy teacher story to share? Vent in the comments! And to get advice from Auntie, email her at advice@sparknotes.com.

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