The Desk-Throwing Teacher

My ninth grade English teacher was not my least favorite teacher ever; however, I am absolutely positive that she was certifiably nuts. Mrs. Richardson was as thin as a pencil with short dusty blond hair that she kept in a shaggy bob cut. She was an avid Oklahoma State fan and her room was covered in black and orange OSU parafanalia. Everyday she wore a matching pants and shirt outfit that always had some crazy print on it. She was effective in teaching my class of freshman a significant amount of literature-- Romeo and Juliet, Lord of the Flies, and the Odyssey. But, as freshman year progressed I could tell that something about her was off. 

Her frustration with the wild and unfocused boys in my class culminated into a momentous explosion during the second semester. She was attempting to get a class discussion started on one of the books we were reading. After asking a girl named Paige, a quiet but rebelious student, a question and receiving a sarcastic answer, Mrs. Richardson proceeded to scream at the class, calling out individual students on their misbehavior. The dramatic episode cilmaxed at the point when her tiny body picked up a desk and threw it across the room. Along with the rest of the class, I could not believe my eyes had just witnessed a teacher throw a desk.