Eddy the Loser

At a classroom in Georgia, the teacher, Mr. Rickert, was addressing his pupils. He stood at the front, and was speaking about Ernest Hemmingway, and more specifically, the prolific author’s contributions to literature. The entire class was jotting down notes on what he said made Hemmingway on such a great writer, and why he was so successful. Everyone in the class was taking notes, aside from Eddy, who was dressed in all black, had a hoodie over his head, and his page was covered in penis doodles. He sat there, rocking back and forth, until he suddenly hunched over and began to smash his own forehead into the desk, over and over.

“Eddy!” scolded Mr. Reckert. “Take your headphones out and listen up!”

Eddy did, though with a sigh. He sat back and stared back to his teacher.

“I don’t like your attitude young man. I don’t like it at all.”

“Yes, sir,” responded Eddy.

The lecture went on, until, fifteen minutes later, Eddy sat at his desk with his head between his arms, face down.

“Eddy!” shouted Mr. Rickert again, swiftly moving towards the young man then pulling him up by the back of his hoodie. “If you’re not going to pay attention, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the room immediately. I will not have you disrupting my class anymore.”

Eddy sat up, shook his head side to side, then muttered under his breath, “How am I disrupting the class by sleeping?”

Mr. Rickert heard him, and yelled back at once. “Young man, that’s it. Principle’s office. Now.”

“Why?” said, Eddy, standing from his seat.

Mr. Rickert folded his arms over his chest. “Because I’m tired of your antics. Always trying to get attention for being a loser, and you’re missing all the important lessons. You realize you’re going to fail literature this semester, don’t you?”

Eddy looked away. “Yes, sir.”

“Then maybe you should take studying more seriously. I hate to be the one who tells you this young man, but you’re in for a rude awakening once you get to the real world.”

“Oh, didn’t know it was a different world than this one,” the boy responded, heading towards the door.

“An attitude like that will get you nowhere in life. You better clean it up now, young man.”

Eddy continued to the door, opened it a creak, then sighed, scratched the back of his head, then turned around, facing Mr. Rickert directly, and spoke with all the other faces looking dismissively back at him.

“Would if this is bull-shit, would if you are wrong. Would if Hemmingway just wrote his own mother-fucking song. Would if this class bores me, ’cause it’s too fast that I think. Would if the lessons you give to me, are not even reaching my own brink. Would I’m not dumb, would if you’re the clown. Would if I’m a writer, and the rest of you are sounds.”

“Eddy, I will have-” Began Mr. Rickert, before being cut off.

“Would if high school bores me, because it really is no test. Would if intelligence abounds me, because I’m smarter than the rest. Would if I’m not so dumb, would if that one is you. Would if I can’t pay attention because my words are actually what is true. So what if I’m a loser, I really do not care. What bothers me the most is that you study what has never once been there.”

“Eddy!” shouted Mr. Rickert. “Enough!”

“Would if you’re all wrong, and really I’m all right. Would if I’m the one who Mr. Hemmingway was like. And say he grew up like me, with teachers who didn’t care. And would if Ernest Hemmingway could see right through their stare.”

“Get out!” screamed Mr. Rickert.

Eddy went on. “Would if you are dull, would if you are weak. Would if all the grades are based on the ability to repeat. Would if I’m creative, would if that is me. Would if I’m the one who knows what it truly means to think.”

“Out!” screamed Mr. Rickert.

“Would if you are boring, would if that is true. Would if it’s not bullshit that I reiterate to you. Would if I am smart, much smarter than the rest. Would if you constrict me with these stupid fucking tests. Would if this is jokeful, all the shit you teach. Would if all your lessons are hogwash that your are told to preach.”

“EDDY!” Screamed Mr. Rickert, pointing out the door. “GET OUT!”

“Why can you not see it, why are you so blind. Why do I spend my whole life trying to show you fucking dumbass guys. Why is it I scare you, why is it that you’re stool. Why is it that these things you teach only make me fucking drool.”

“Dammit young man, do I have to have you escorted out of here?”

“What’s the point of trying, when the prideful think they’re best? What’s the point of learning, when it only brings about distress? For I know of what is wrong, I know of what is right, I know the things you say to me will never help me fucking write. I can see it more clearly, much more clear than you. I feel I understand everything, and yet you make up these imaginary rules. What is writing for? For what does it exist? Why are you so pathetic, and why do you insist? To teach things that don’t work, to teach what isn’t there. I’m pretty sure for Ernest, he didn’t fucking care. I think you are a joke, I think you are a fool, I think all that is wrong with learning, stems from guys like you.”

“That’s it! Detention! One week!”

“Do you want to know, the reasons that I do, do you ever want to know, why I so fucking hate you? Does it ever seem, to anyone but me, does it ever seem like we’re learning all of the wrong things? Does anyone else know, does anyone else care, does any one give a fuck about learning things that are not there? It is a fucking crime, more than half a shame, it is a damn hipocricy when ego’s steal a share. You do not know about me, you do not know the truth, that if Hemingway were here today, he’d like me much more than you.”

After Eddy met with the principal, he was suspended three weeks for inappropriate behavior, indecent drawings and using profanities in the classroom.

– Thomas M. Watt

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