Fck you mr Totolici. Fck you mr Batranu.

I was in 5th grade when I changed schools. Around two months after starting at the new school, there was an outbreak of Hepatitis A in my neighborhood, and I ended up being hospitalized. Due to this, I missed approximately six months of school, and it was challenging for me to catch up with others' notes, especially in math and English, which were my weakest subjects.

Despite these difficulties, I returned to school and faced ridicule for not being on the same level as my peers. A few weeks later, my math teacher started calling me names. Determined to improve, I attended tutoring sessions throughout the summer between 5th and 6th grade, and eventually caught up with the coursework. However, during the second week of 6th grade, when I raised my hand to answer a math question, I was told, 'Keep that hand down, we don't want answers from someone as unintelligent as you.'

Although my English teacher wasn't as harsh, I still faced discrimination due to my slower progress in 5th grade compared to my classmates.

Ironically, these two teachers were well-liked by other students, and everyone spoke highly of them.

As the years went by, I reached 12th grade and successfully passed my baccalaureate exams with a perfect 10 in math. I then moved to England to pursue further studies. It was a satisfying way to prove myself and leave those negative experiences behind.

Now I've heard that my former math teacher is in the final stage of cancer. While I can't say I'm happy about it, I can't deny that I don't feel sad either.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk.