CIA said:
That was nothing compared to my 9th grade teacher, however. She... was surprised to learn that dihydrogen monoxide killes large numbers of people each year.
You're... you're kidding, right?
My favorite bit of unreality in school was from 10th grade English. The teacher told us to make "great philosophical connections" between things that didn't necessarily have anything to do with anything. The hilarious thing is that everybody failed their rough drafts because nobody thought that doing anything so damn stupid would get them a good grade. So almost everybody wrote straight-up biographies.
My mom was in her helicopter parent stage at that point, and while I was smart enough to realize exactly what had to be done despite how enormously stupid it was, I couldn't win over he argument that I should have been writing up lies. Specifically, I had to connect song lyrics from Elvis's songs with this life. (I was doing my paper on Elvis Presley.) That sounded great in theory, but what I had to do was connect songs to his life that had no chronological possibility of being connected or just plain not being written by him. So, my mom forced me to write a biography. And of course, she flipped a shit when I failed the rough draft.
Once I got it through my mom's thick skull that I had to write these deep philosophical lies, she let off the reins a little bit and let me write my deep philosophical lies. Eventually, I spent some time after school with the teacher who "guided" me in making my paper even more great and philosophical. We were going over every word with a fine toothed comb just to make things seem more profound.
Now, if all of this so far sounds absolutely batshit, that's because it was. I swear, I was so far removed from reality by that point in my life that I was in a bad spot in my mind. This was like hardcore destructive school unreality compounded with my mom being a psycho and a cocktail of other crazy things going on behind the scenes which are beyond the scope of this topic.
But this one paper stands out as the single most bizarre part of my life. I was literally making up lies to get a good grade. The teacher sanctioned it. It was the entire point of the paper. All my life, I was told not to make up stories. My paper was as far removed from reality as my ass is from the dark side of Europa.
I could go on and on about how the assignment didn't help me later in life, but that's already obvious. What I don't understand is how it was supposed to do anything for me or anybody else in the class at that time in our lives. Like I said, everybody failed their first draft specifically because nobody believed they would have to do anything so ludicrously nonsensical. They were at a loss for what to do, so they wrote biographies. That was the sensible solution. Too bad the paper didn't make any sense.
My brain's doing backflips just trying to explain this right now. I'm not kidding when I said it was the most bizarre thing I ever experienced. I just... I just think I'm done talking about it.