I walked into the classroom, it suddenly felt hot in there on a cloudy winter day. I was already squirming in worry and shame as I approached her desk. The blood and cuts on my face made me self conscious. The pre-class chatter was all distant noise in the background. When I reached my teacher, my voice was shaky. Her eyes judgingly flit to the marks on my face. “Mrs. Jelcic, I couldn’t… I didn’t do the hw…”, my voice faltered. I stuttered that I had a bad night at home last night, but she wasn’t moved. “Okaay, but you still have to turn it in and you will lose points,” she said. Everything faded around me, I was numb to my surroundings. I felt small, that I was being penalized from something that wasn’t my fault, and she didn’t even consider my face or my concern. As she noticed me on the verge of tears, she asked if I wanted to go to guidance,  as she furrowed her brow quizzically and frowned. I nodded and rushed out on the verge of tears as she started class. I always thought learning was so productful, and that I had some great teachers who taught me to be more knowledgeable and educated in life. But that day I learned how unsympathetic and irritated the education system can be when thinking about teaching “ignorant” children. That the numerical grades, turned in assignments, or due dates were more important than the beauty of learning or impact of educated perception on kids. This effects unhelpful comments, impatience, and misunderstandment from teachers causing a distasteful experience for students. What is the point of education if it’s not pleasant?Â