Digizel
Punished GN
pugbutter
Garth
rush99999
Birdboy
Ignorancebliss"Normally I'd tell you that you've got 2 weeks to get a half semester's worth of work done, but it just so happens I have another student in the same predicament. To save us both a hassle, I've met with all the core class instructors and we've devised one project to encompass just about all of the stuff in each. You'll be paired up with the other who's been out as much as you, and it's up to you all to save your grades after that. I can only do so much for you kids you know. Back in my day..." The droning voice of your math teacher seemed to drone on and on and on.
She was a younger teacher, after some drama about a racist remark from one of the longer-lived teachers at the school, a few anonymous poles from the student body showed that the majority of the older members of the staff had in some way jeopardized the reputation of the school. Over the course of last year the majority of the teaching body was replaced, which was a double-edged sword to the students, making it much harder to keep things organized but giving them a lot nicer, newer teachers. A clear-cut example of this was exactly what was happening now. They had a way with the students that the last group just didn't, they knew they just needed that last little burst of hope in them. The lady, dressed in her Friday best stood up, handing the student(s) in front of her the huge, bulky packet full of requirements and instruction. The front, in big letters written 'MANHATTAN PROJECT'. She snickered at the look she was given as she tossed it to the kid.
"I didn't say it was going to be easy, now did I? But I think you can do it. I'll be seeing you on Sunday, and well, I guess you'll be meeting your other teammates too"
And eventually, Saturday came. With the year about over, not much was happening in the school. Teachers casually typed away, custodians cleaned the halls. There was a distinctly open parking lot for these few students enter thanks to the vacancy of over 2,000 boys and girls. The day was young, warm and nice. A perfect day for being outside, doing anything that wasn't school work. And yet the students where to be stuck here, possibly all day.
She was a younger teacher, after some drama about a racist remark from one of the longer-lived teachers at the school, a few anonymous poles from the student body showed that the majority of the older members of the staff had in some way jeopardized the reputation of the school. Over the course of last year the majority of the teaching body was replaced, which was a double-edged sword to the students, making it much harder to keep things organized but giving them a lot nicer, newer teachers. A clear-cut example of this was exactly what was happening now. They had a way with the students that the last group just didn't, they knew they just needed that last little burst of hope in them. The lady, dressed in her Friday best stood up, handing the student(s) in front of her the huge, bulky packet full of requirements and instruction. The front, in big letters written 'MANHATTAN PROJECT'. She snickered at the look she was given as she tossed it to the kid.
"I didn't say it was going to be easy, now did I? But I think you can do it. I'll be seeing you on Sunday, and well, I guess you'll be meeting your other teammates too"
And eventually, Saturday came. With the year about over, not much was happening in the school. Teachers casually typed away, custodians cleaned the halls. There was a distinctly open parking lot for these few students enter thanks to the vacancy of over 2,000 boys and girls. The day was young, warm and nice. A perfect day for being outside, doing anything that wasn't school work. And yet the students where to be stuck here, possibly all day.