My junior year in high school, I had a very interesting relationship with my chemistry teacher. She was a brilliant woman who desperately wanted to stuff my brain with thousands of facts and theories about Avogadro and his infamous mole. However, I was the student who liked to challenge the teacher. I did not just sit back and accept all this nonsense simply because Mrs. Alexander said this was this and that was that. I wanted to know why? How? And I was never afraid to ask either.
I remember one particular day; we were learning how to predict chemical reactions. I don't know if I was having a brain fart that day, but not a word that escaped Mrs. A's lips made sense to me. So, I began asking questions. I told Mrs. Alexander I didn't understand and I asked her to explain the concepts again. I wanted to know why a set of reactants would form certain products and how to make these predictions. I could tell Mrs. Alexander was getting irritated and her patience was burning up, but that did not stop my prodding. I was determined to continue asking questions until I understood every word she said. But apparently she did not want to deal with my interrogation; the next thing that exploded out of her mouth was not chemistry.
"What is wrong with you?" she screeched.
Her eyes bulged from her head as I imagined steam shooting out of her pores. I could see the outline of purple veins hardening beneath her skin as her face reddened with anger the same moment mine was marked by embarrassment from her harsh words. However, she was not done.
"Are you stupid? How do you not get this?".
Her unforgiving words sent chills down my spine as her screams echoed throughout my brain. I was shocked. I could not believe I had just heard such callous, insulting words come from my teacher! But I began doing it again! It felt like hundreds of questions were flooding my brain at once as I pondered to myself. And still more questions remained unanswered: how could Mrs.
