You can’t make a teacher like you make a cup of instant coffee.

I have a friend who comes from a family of scholars who is now, with great effort, finishing her university studies, interrupted for years, since she has to work to support herself and her children.

She told me an incident that occurred in the high school in her neighborhood, with one of the emerging teachers, in the school in which her younger son studies.

Said teacher one day asked the students what was the infinitive of the verb poder and her son, who likes to study and reads a lot, raised his hand and replied that the infinitive was the same word, poder. The teacher insisted that the infinitive was pudir and, faced with the resistance of the boy, who repeated with assurance that it was poder, the teacher lost her temper and screaming at him in front of all students, told him, “The infinitive is pudir and for your information, yo pudir ca en tu madre” [or, in English, an ungrammatical version of: I can shit on your mother].

When the boy returned home distraught, and his mother asked him what was wrong, he told her what happened at school and my friend immediately left to demand an accounting from the illustrious professor.

Translator’s note:
See this post in Generation Y for information about “emergent teachers.”

Translated by ricote

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