Dear Mr. Nadeau
French class was always good for a laugh. Go back to 1991, and me in the 6th grade (I think it was 1991 anyways). Mr. Nadeau, our French teacher, was making us watch small 2 minute videos and asked us to make up the resolution to them. Me and Arthur were in a group, and had a video where a little girl had gotten a stray kitten and was taking care of it when suddenly her mother walks in. Nadeau, being an asshole, gave two guys that job. Maybe he didn’t like us. It didn’t stop us from flipping the lid on his ass.
You see, in our version of the ending, Arthur was the little girl taking good care of the kitten (we used a bundled sweater as the kitten), and I was the mother. I walked in and in my only line of the play, I yelled, “Q’est ce que c’est ca! Q’est ce que c’est ca!??”. Arthur cried “Maman!” in a plaintive voice, but my inner actor cried out for vengaeance against the pup who had violated my holy rules. Mr. Nadeau, the humorless french nitwit, watched as I kicked the cat out of Arthur’s hands and started “beating” him. (For those that don’t know, Arthur is a legit tough guy and could kick my ass easily, even then). Tears ran down my daughter’s face as I educated her in the costs associated with defying maman, and made clear that I would accept no shit from anyone, let alone a little girl who takes in stray cats. It was deep on many levels; a woman whose power structure is challenged by an innocent child and resorts to violence, a traditional “male” response. This was, of course, to demonstrate that violence was a matter of power, and unrelated to sex. Entwined in this plot was the story of the daughter who was expressing her need for love through the adoption of this kitten; love which her strict evil mother would never give her. Sadly, Mr. Nadeau was incapable of understanding the deep meaning of the plot. Truly, you were the child in the class Mr. Nadeau, philistine extra-ordinare!
As the other students cheered, Mr. Nadeau (which should be french for “I have no sense of humor”) pulled us out of class, gave Arthur a D and me an F, and then told us off.
REMINDER: I make more money than you Mr. Nadeau, and I have no union to make sure I don’t get fired.