Chapter 5: The Final Straw

I was so mad my neck started to throb.

Sure, the kids worked hard, but only because I pushed them to build good study habits.

Let’s be real: Room 6’s students had a weak foundation and zero initiative. If it’d been any other teacher, someone less responsible, they’d never have made it.

I’d pulled countless all-nighters making study plans for every kid.

Gave up my own rest to tutor one-on-one, sometimes surviving on just a granola bar and a bottle of water for dinner.

Tutored kids for free at home on weekends and holidays.

Spent my own money buying study materials and prizes for them.

I dare anyone to say I didn’t try harder than any teacher in the school.

But now these parents say their kids’ grades have nothing to do with me. Nothing at all.

I fired back: "So if you think the grades are all your kids’ doing, then my personal time shouldn’t affect them at all, right?"

The parents shot back instantly:

"Grades aren’t everything! What if my kid doesn’t eat enough at school? What if they forget to drink water? What if they don’t dress warm enough and get sick? What if they feel unwell?"

"The kids are exhausted from studying. Cleaning and chores should be the homeroom teacher’s job too."

"Evening study ends too late. I say, the homeroom teacher should take the kids home."

Ms. Carter messaged me privately:

"Are these parents for real? They think the homeroom teacher is a nanny now?"

Watching the group chat blow up, my temples pounded.

I took a deep breath, summoning my last bit of patience, and said sincerely:

"Dear parents, there’s less than half a year left until graduation. Please trust me, give me a chance, and I promise to do my best as homeroom teacher."

Mrs. Parker’s reply smashed my last bit of hope:

"Unbelievable. Are you planning to take it out on our kids now?"

Fine. I quit.

I rubbed my eyes, feeling that gritty ache of exhaustion. It was like banging my head against a brick wall—no matter what I said, it didn’t matter. All I could hear was the ticking clock and a neighbor’s dog barking outside, as indifferent as the world to my mess.