--My History Professor via message, referring to another student, who verbally attacked me during class on Wednesday.
I don't know, it was just one of those days.
Here's what happened.
The afternoon before, I decided to include some running and weight lifting in my program at the gym, even though I was told by doctors not to do that (but my physical therapist said it was okay, so, whom to believe?). Doctors say only yoga and walking for people with fibromyalgia, and for me, specifically, I'm not to exercise more than 30 minutes per day (which I ignore). So, here I am, sweating, running, and noticing that a lot of thin, beautiful women are at the gym, wandering around aimlessly in shorts and tight t-shirts, listening to music, and none of them are--actually exercising? Did they get thin by exercising, hence showing up to the gym, but then realized that they were thin, and didn't need to exercise, but felt guilty for not exercising, so they show up to the gym to pretend to exercise???
I wake up the next morning, getting ready for history class, and I quickly realize that I hurt from my neck all the way to my feet, and that this is an extreme amount of pain, even for me. Pills, lots and lots of pills.
I'm high, but still somewhat functional, and I show up to history class, and I talk about watching the movie Lincoln with the professor as everyone is settling in, which will change the average person's perception of Lincoln. He wasn't exactly as idealistic as we all would like to think he was (which I didn't know until I took History 207A with the same professor as I have now in History 207B). In fact, your average Northerner Senator during that time period was actually quite racist, although a few "Radical Republicans" did exist--but--
I ask my usual amount of questions since we're talking about Western expansion, and that's interesting, right? We're discussing the railroad, and cattle, and farming, and all that fun shit--and maybe I'm being more annoying than usual, who knows, right? When, in the middle of one of my questions, one of the girls in the back, who I never get a good look at her, bursts into a sort of rage about how many questions I've been asking, "Like it's been eight or nine by now, not even five or six! I'm paying for this class too, you know!" And she goes on and on.
I'm sitting there, a bit stunned (the entire episode is caught on my voice recorder if anyone is interested in listening to the entire thing).
The professor replies that she decides which questions are appropriate for the time allotted, and that my questions are on topic.
And still, the girl won't stop loudly talking from the other side of the room.
I get up to leave.
"Please don't leave, [Jae]," my professor says.
"No, I need to go." I really don't see the point in staying and listening to this since she doesn't show any sign of slowing down.
"You're not going to listen to what I have to say?!? I have a right to my opinion!" The girl continues.
"Come and see me, okay?" The professor says to my back as I'm headed out the door.
I give a weak "okay" on my way out.
I grab Beck, and leave the classroom, somewhat relieved because this day has just gotten shorter. And shorter means the sooner I can go home, and lie on my bed in comfort.
When I tell my mother the story, she asks why I let a bully run me out of the classroom. In reality, I'm not sure why I left, other than I couldn't think of a good response that wasn't rude or aggressive. I mean, a "fuck you" is not appropriate for a class setting. To just sit there and silently take it seems too docile and weak. You can't get into a screaming match with an irate, irrational nineteen-year-old on the other side of the room.
About an hour after class ended, a random classmate sent me a message, the title of which was "We Support You!", and it was, indeed, a supportive message. She commented that she found my questions helpful with understanding the material (which was nice to hear).
In the message, the professor tells me that I can file an incident report too. My mother thinks that I should since the girl's actions were severe enough to cause me such discomfort that I had to leave the room. I understand that point of view, but as I told my professor via the messaging system, the young woman did not engage in the legal definition of hate speech--she didn't disparage me by my gender nor by my disability. She did not threaten me physically. I said that if she approach me privately, and did so, I would not hesitate to go to the campus police. But as it stands, I will take no further action. If she continues to be a disturbance in the classroom, I told the professor that I knew she would handle it properly and swiftly.
All-in-all, I walked around in a haze (could have been the drugs, who knows?) for a few days afterwards. The next morning, because of the pain and lack of motivation, I missed another English class (I've now missed three lectures). I attended Microbiology lecture, but then missed lab because the pain was too great to sit in a chair for three hours.
It's interesting that when I sat down with my Microbiology professor and talked with him privately for about an hour on Wednesday (immediately after the drama-filled history class), he mentioned that he knew from my questions in class that I understood the material. He didn't mind the questions at all; in fact, at times, he seemed to rather enjoy them.
I have no idea what I'm going to do when I sit down in history class again. I have a feeling in my gut that this girl, whoever she is, I only have her first name, that she's not going to be quiet. Perhaps this is only my cynical nature speaking.
I've considered dropping the class (it's the only class I'm taking this semester that I don't need to graduate), but kind of message is that sending to not only myself but also other people?
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