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I've always had an advanced vocabulary. Thats not me aggrandizing; thats just candor. I
was always the teachers pet, not only because I had an advanced lexicon, but also because I
listened to the teachers and did my work -- which, apparently, arent normal characteristics of
middle schoolers.
While most of my teachers liked me, the feelings werent always reciprocated. Luckily,
Im great at pretending to not despise people when I need to, so problems usually didnt arise.
Except in sixth grade English class with Mrs. Hoffman. You see, as a sixth grader I was fully
aware that my speech was...unusual. Advanced, may be a more diplomatic term. I was aware that
most kids my age didn't know the words I knew; that was fine. An English teacher not knowing
them? I think they should. But what takes an unlettered teacher from being inconvenient to
inexcusable is their condescension. Mrs. Hoffman was the southern version of a northeastern
socialite.
The first book we read with her was Agatha Christies And Then There Were None, which is one
of my favorite books, actually. Growing up reading Agatha Christie is probably one of the
reasons Im so paranoid, but thats neither here nor there. Our first assignment with the book was
to read chapter one and circle the words we didnt know. Being the good student that I was, I did
as I was told.
In class, we were listing the words we didnt recognize and Mrs. Hoffman was writing
them on the board. How about you Addison? What words did you circle? Youre quieter than
usual today. She sashays over to my desk and before I can respond, shes yanked the book out
of my hand and is flipping through it, Why on earth didnt you do the assignment? I-Im
sorry, Mrs. Hofman. I did. I didnt find any words that I dont know. Hmph! She turns on the
heel of her stiletto and marches back to the board. Thats when things got...strained.
She points to the first word on the board and glares expectantly. Addison? Would you
care to define these? Exhale. Yes, Mrs. Hoffman. An abode is a place of residence, like a
house.
Communion.
An exchange of intimate thoughts and feelings, unless used in a religious context. Then it refers
Bask.
Correspondent.
A person who writes letters. For Mrs. Hoffman, that was probably the Devil himself.
This continued for the rest of the class period. I usually try to give people a chance,
maybe she was having a bad day, maybe a lot of students made that claim to avoid doing
homework, I dont know. But by the time the bell rang, vengeance had been vowed. Being the
action. Vengeance meant being myself, unfiltered atypical words and all. Specifically, words
The first word I slipped into class discussion was milieu while talking about the social
dynamic on the island in And Then There Were None. Mrs. Hoffman was taken aback, but
otherwise didnt react. I used the word plethora next, but she she was able to figure out that one
It was the word cognizant that finally got to her. I dont remember what we were
discussing...we were down to...three little soldier boys walking in a zoo. I dont remember my
Her face changed colors like a time lapse sunset. The first color was a shade of pink only
found in Chanel perfume commercials. Then her face brightened to that shade of red that
socialites always wear to the Met Gala. In true Mrs. Hoffman style, her flushed face matched her
Stop using words that you dont know to make yourself feel superior!
In retrospect, Id like to offer kudos to Mrs. Hoffman for using a polysyllabic word.
Mrs. Hoffman, I dont use words I dont know; I dont know them.
(angry lip puckering) If I dont know them, then you dont know them.
PAUSE.
The beauty of this feud was that she couldnt send me to the principal. First off, she
didnt know what I was saying so she couldnt exactly report it. And second of all, an English
teacher getting a kid in trouble because they were using big words isnt an ideal situation. So,
you might prefer five dollar words or fifty-cent words, but outsmarting my sixth grade English
teacher was definitely priceless. Hey, just because I like big words doesnt mean Im above