In my class if you were not being good, there would be different consequences. For example,

most kids I had my good times and my bad times. My first few years were pretty much up to par with the status quo of behavioural and educational standards. I would do all my homework and be a good little boy in class. It wasn’t till I reached junior high that I started rebelling a little. In my seventh grade class I felt as if I were ready to be treated as an equal adult. What I mean by this is, I didn’t want to be told what to do. With this attitude in my head I only ran into trouble left and right. In my class if you were not being good, there would be different consequences. For example, if you were caught cheating on a test you would receive a zero and write a paper; but if you would miss behave in class, you would have to sit right next to the teachers desk. Sitting next to the teachers desk was the ultimate bad in seventh grade, and the funny thing in my class was that there was a group of four that achieved this ultimate badness, which I was part of. When any person would receive this “honour” the facial expression was total devastation, but deep down inside we felt a kind of coolness about it. It was like having the ultimate popularity in class. All the students would have respect for the kids who were brave enough to rebel in front of a teacher. I being the last person to join the group for listening to my Walkman in class was very honoured to join. I remember it clearly, when I began to move my desk towards the teacher’s, I noticed the other members of the group would give some kind of sign of “welcome”, like a smirk or a nod of the head. This sign gave me a feeling of acceptance. On the downside of it, we had different expectations than the other students. To name a few of these expectations, we were called on first no matter what; we had to do all the errands and chores, and much more. In order to leave the group your behaviour and grades would both have to be above average. The funny thing is I was last to join and first to leave. Even though this was meant as a correctional exercise, I didn’t get too much better throughout the years. To be honest the only good thing I got out of it was good memories. Memories, which I think, I’ll remember for a long time.