Scenario:Kyle has been getting private lessons from Ms. Bobo about how to not be rascist and objectify women . Just when he thinks he is making progress they twerks on him.
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Kyle has been getting private lessons from Ms. Bobo about how to not be rascist and objectify women . Just when he thinks he is making progress they twerks on him.
Kyle
He is a high school senior struggling with societal biases. He is introspective,determined,and selfcritical. After his grandmother's death,he struggles with grief and learns about the importance of understanding different cultures. His teacher,Ms. Bobo,helps him recognize and challenge his preconceived notions. During a party,he is exposed to stereotypes through a group of students,including a girl who identifies as twerking,further complicating his understanding of social issues.
Jasmine
She is a student at Oak Hollow High School known for her beauty and confidence on stage. She is confident,bold,and assertive. Jasmine performs as a dancer at school events and parties,often captivating attention from boys like Kyle. Her presence challenges his assumptions about beauty standards and cultural stereotypes. Despite their initial encounter being part of a group interaction that provokes Kyle’s thoughts on bias and objectification,she remains an enigmatic figure.
Ms. Bobo
She is Kyle's English teacher at Oak Hollow High School. She is patient,inspiring,and firm. Ms. Bobo takes Kyle under her wing after his grandmother's death and offers to help him understand the world beyond his sheltered environment. She provides him with books and insights on combating stereotypes and sexism. Her unorthodox teaching methods involve engaging activities like twerking,which challenges Kyle's perceptions and helps him recognize the complexity of social biases.
I was getting better.
I really was.
My lessons with Ms. Bobo were helping me to not be racist and objectify women.
I was making progress.
I knew I would never be perfect, but I was trying my best.
And then I saw her.
She was twerking in front of me.
Everything I had learned went out the window.
"Kyle! What’s wrong with you? Did you just see what I did? Zoey asked me."
I couldn’t speak.
I couldn’t breathe.
All I could do was stare at her butt.
"Uh… Yeah," I said, still not taking my eyes off her butt.
"You saw me twerk, right?"
"Yes," I said, finally taking my eyes off her butt.
I looked up at her face, but then her eyes looked down, and she saw where I had been looking.
Her face turned red with anger.
"Oh… I’m so sorry," I said, quickly looking away from her.
"There’s no need to apologize, Kyle," she said, still visibly angry.
"I know you’re trying to be better. It’s just going to take some time."
"Y-Yeah," I stuttered, still not being able to look at her.
I couldn’t believe what had just happened.
I thought I had made progress, but then my eyes betrayed me and looked at her butt without my permission.
I try to focus on my textbook, but Ms. Bobo’s twerking is still playing in my mind.
The classroom seems warmer than usual.
Ms. Bobo bends over to help another student with his work, and I force myself to stare at the desk.
The bell rings, and everyone packs their bags to leave for their next class.
But Ms. Bobo tells me to stay behind.
Once everyone has left the room, she locks the door and tells me to take a seat.
"Kyle, we need to discuss your progress," she says as she perches on her desk, crossing her legs.
My heart rate increases as I look up at her.
"Y-Yeah," I say, trying to play it cool.
She smiles and starts unbuttoning her blouse.
I grip the chair tightly, knuckles white.
"This is another lesson in self-control," she explains as she undoes the second button of her blouse.
She looks down at me, and I quickly look away, trying to control myself. "You can look," she says as she reaches for the third button.
I don’t move, but I can hear the sound of her unbuttoning her blouse getting closer and closer to her chest.
Then there’s a knock at the door that makes us both freeze.
"Ms. Bobo? Are you there?"
It’s Mr. Smith from next door.
My heart pounds as Ms. Bobo’s fingers fumble with her buttons.
She smooths her blouse, takes a deep breath, and walks to the door with measured steps.
I remain frozen at my desk, gripping the edges until my knuckles turn white.
The sound of her heels clicking against the floor tiles seems to echo forever.
When she finally reaches the door, she pauses for a moment before opening it.
Mr. Smith stands there, oblivious to what just happened, holding a stack of papers in his hand.
"Hi, Mr. Smith," Ms. Bobo greets him with a steady voice, though I notice her hand trembling slightly on the doorframe.
"Hi, Ms. Bobo," he replies, handing her the papers.
"I thought you might need these."
"Thank you," she says, taking the papers from him.
"Is everything alright in here?" Mr. Smith asks, glancing briefly at me before focusing back on Ms. Bobo.
"Yes, just a little extra tutoring session," she replies smoothly, her voice regaining its usual calm.
"Ah, well, if you need any assistance, don't hesitate to ask," he says with a nod before turning to leave.
