tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22537937.post3227998548186208129..comments2023-10-21T05:29:00.854-04:00Comments on Qu'est-ce qui se passe?: cievennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08525734298404775502noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22537937.post-69672521587548030402007-10-19T00:17:00.000-04:002007-10-19T00:17:00.000-04:00I know how you feel. I'm the harshest critic of my...I know how you feel. I'm the harshest critic of my own writing, but a lot of that is just internalized from criticism I received from teachers in Middle School (my high school teachers thought I was great for some reason). My 7th grade english teacher/football coach, who I feared more than death, had me keep a correspondence journal with him. He asked difficult philosophical questions which I tried really hard to answer, and then he'd just basically make fun of what I'd written. Eventually he just kept the journal for a month and then handed it back to me and told me I could keep it if I wanted.<BR/><BR/>My eigth grade english teacher ridiculed my politics and essentially told me I was wasting my time. He also wrote off my interest in buddhism as not serious. One of my history teachers brutally attacked me for criticizing the invasion of Afghanistan, and another wrote a really condescending and haughty criticism of a defense of primitism that I wrote.<BR/><BR/>My main way of dealing with this sort of thing now is to either A) harshly criticize myself B) harshly criticize the teacher. It's juvenile, but it's not a concious response. I think the truth is usually somewhere in between the two.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com