But... its fun!

I want to be gangster... too bad I'm a 13 year old girl with no street cred whatsoever.

My School Used to Be So Great.

What happened?!
Last year at my school aka, grade seven; it was awesome. Kids rarely got bullied, our principle was strict but extremely good at doing his job, and our teachers were understanding and helped us every step of the way! For grade eights AND nines. Everyone understood the concepts and most of us got high marks.

Now, its grade eight.

All the good and excellent teachers left (Mrs. Wruk, Ms. Gallucci, Mrs. Mann and Mr. O'Brian) and now all we're left with is Mr. M and Mrs. Chapor. Our old principle left and now we're stuck with a man who just doesn't do shit about the bullying (which is rising).
So everyone in BOTH Grade eight classes are failing, Mr. M doesn't explain the math AT ALL and refuses to help us with our questions but denies its his fault we're failing.
Mrs. Chapor spazzes at us, overreacts, never answers our questions clearly and isn't really helping us. Every student is failing her class!
Personally, I am trying my best to get all of this but these teachers... they don't do shit! And rumor is the reason a bunch of teachers left was because they're shutting down the school because there's less and less kids. Less kids=less money=horendous outcome.

If any of those teachers I listed on the top line are reading this, COME back! We NEED you here! These teachers aren't helping us and we miss you loads! Come and save us from this educational depression!

FUCK YOU.

I use it alot here and its starting to lose its meaning, but I mean it.

FUCK YOU.

Here's the story:
My sketchbook is probably one of the most personal things to me. Like a journal, only with pictures. Anyway, our new student teacher, Mr. H is our teacher's scrawny little slave. Whatever Ms. Chapor tells him to do, he'll do it. And while we were in our groups, Mr. H has the nerve to pick up MY personal, dear sketchbook and LOOK THROUGH IT. And then he stops along a page of vent art. Yes it had swears in it, and this was the conversation we had:
Mr.H: "Emily, what is this?"

Me: "One of my pictures, why?"

Mr.H:"This really isn't approporiate for class."

Me: "Well I don't see the problem. Its inside so who's going to see it?"

Mr. H: "I don't think this language is appropriate for a Catholic School."

Me: "Yeah, but its my sketchbook, I paid for it."

Mr. H: "That's not the point. You shouldn't be writing this in school."

And he takes it away from me until he gives it back!
If it was Ms. Chapor that'd be one thing but a STUDENT TEACHER? Your leaving on Dec. 12 anyway! What the fuck do I care if you think its bad? Your gonna be gone soon! Do you really think that taking it away from me will stop me from writing profanity in my pictures? Do you really think its gonna stop me from being my sketchbook to school? You think its gonna make me angel and pure again? Uh, no. In fact the only think it'll teach me is that your a nosey prick who doesn't respect peoples' privacy; that's what it tought me!
And what gives you the right to look through it, secondly? If you asked for my permission, then whatever but without it you have no right to even go near it.

FUCK YOU MR. H, AND STOP GOING THROUGH MY THINGS.